Crossroads and Crossed swords
by larentina
Summary: The choice was simple. Give up her Soul, or maybe be picked to be queen of hell. She never thought he'd ACTUALLY pick her. Now she's doing everything she can to make the king of Hell reconsider his choice - and neither of them ever fight fair. Crowley/OFC
1. Wager Slave

**A/N Okay, first fanfiction for Supernatural *shudders* so wish me luck? As far a timing goes, this begins just after the opening of purgatory where Cas has just made Crowley king of hell again, so 7x02**

**Full Summary: The choice was simple. Give up her Soul, or maybe be picked to be queen of hell. She never though he'd ACTUALLY pick her. Now she's doing everything she can to make the king of Hell reconsider his choice - and neither of them ever fight fair. Crowley/OC**

**Rated M for quite coarse swearing and some slight innuendos. Also later for violence and sexual scenes (but that's not for a few chapters).**

**Disclaimer: Clearly, I don't own Supernatural. Wish I did. Evangeline, the OC belongs to me.**

* * *

_**Chapter One: Wager Slave**_

Crowley swirled the glass of Scotch he was cradling in his hands. The demon currently standing before his desk reeked of fear and failure. The week had been a little slow ever since he sent the Winchesters the ritual. Since he'd had no visit from the new god, he could only assume that he'd gotten away with it. Life was good.

"Let me ask you something Richie." He stood and walked to the window, seeing his employee relax every so slightly. "What would you do, if you had a scumbag idiot come in front of you, fresh from a job and tell you he'd screwed up on sealing a deal because he felt sorry for them?"

"I... I dunno boss."

"Which is why I run the show and not you Richie, understand me? Now, first rule o'being a crossroads demon is you act like a fucking DEMON" Crowley finished, turning around to face the man again. "So you make a deal with whoever turns up, you don't let them go just because they're a group of trouser sagging teenagers who thought it would be a laugh to bury that box. Word gets out that people can do that sorta thing and not make a deal we'll be up to our arses in nosey bastards, kids and lonely old women wanting a chat! Now, You're going to track down each one of those teenagers and _Make a Deal._"

The demon disappeared and Crowley swallowed the contents of his glass, smiling. His second in command was standing in the doorway with a package, Crowley signalled he could approach with a wave of one hand.

"I hope you have good news for me Jonathan, or I'll be forced to find my enjoyment in other ways."

"Well sir, we've just learned that the Angel Castiel is dead."

"How did he die?"

"Painfully. He exploded, we think. He was housing a new type of creature within him. Well, I say new – they're called Leviathans."

"I know 'em. Creations dead end street. God's failed DIY project. But what's the package?"

Jonathan removed the item from where it was resting under the crook of his arm. "A book. It was hand delivered. Whoever left it killed the two guards on the gate, then tied this to the railings with a bow and tag."

"How exciting. A present all for me hmm? _Greek Tales of the underworld._"

Jonathan nodded and left, closing the door to the study behind him. Crowley rifled through the contents of the book, looking for any irregular markings, but there were none. He looked at the contents page; sisyphus, Orpheus and Eurydice, Theseus and Piritheus, Cupid and psyche...the list was long, but one particular story caught his eye. 'Persephone, queen of the underworld', he read, before flipping through to the page indicated.

_Aphrodite, long vexed by the lord of the underworld's imperviousness to love, became determined to cause Hades to fall in love. So she ordered Eros to shoot hades with one of his arrows so that he would fall in love with Persephone, the daughter of the Greek harvest goddess Demeter and Zeus. Eros did so and Hades fell in love with the girl, but did not approach her because he knew that she would spurn him._

_One day, he laid a trap for Persephone, who was walking in a forest with her friends. Her gaze was caught by a beautiful flower, which she left the path to pick. Hades revealed himself from the shadows and kidnapped Persephone, taking her deep into the underworld._

_Once there, he exulted in his victory. The realm of Hades was his alone and so though her mother Demeter searched the entire earth for Persephone, she could not be found. Hades bedecked his new wife in Silks and Jewels, for she was now his counterpart; the dread Queen of the Shades..._

Crowley read on, bemused but strangely engrossed by the tale. After flicking through the other stories, there were none that he found that could be directed at him more than this one. But even assuming the mysterious person who left the gift was implying that he should be more like Hades, who would think it was a good idea to have a queen of hell?

"JONATHAAAAN!" he roared and the demon popped into being in front of him. "What do you think of me getting a queen. Metaphorically, like."

"Now that you say it sir, it might actually be a good idea. There's been rumblings recently, some of the demons who had leanings towards Lucifer getting all shifty. Saying you're not as powerful, blah blah blah...that you've got brute strength, but not Lucifer's cunning-"

"Not cunning? Not- I _caged_ Lucifer and they say I'm-"

"It's the whole Lilith thing. Lucifer twisted her from a virtuous human soul into a demonic bitch and some people don't think you could do the same. Lilith was practically the queen around here. Word was she and Lucifer had a...thing...and that's how he convinced her to turn demon. Made her fall for him, then used her for his own ends right until he got put in the cage. I suppose after that she woke up to the fact that he hated her."

"Right. So they think I need to prove myself. Fine. So be it. Bring me a woman and I'll make her love me, kill people then break her heart. Actually, bring me a selection. Can't have you picking some snaggle toothed old hag...I do have standards – unlike Lucifer, clearly. Tell the crossroads demons any woman who comes to them from now on, they pay with either their soul or have a chance of being my wife for...lets say a year. It's a great offer, most of them will get off without paying anything. Call in on some other debtors too, see if they want a chance to clear their debt."

"Right away then sir."

Crowley sat back in his seat, folding his arms behind his head. How bad could a wife be anyway? It's not like he had to _love_ the bitch, just get her to trust him, be loyal to him and serve him. Given his charms, money and power, how hard could that be?

* * *

"Be back soon, just going for my nightly jog, don't wait up."

"Okay Miss Healthy, stop guilting me and go."

Evangeline Clairmont grinned as she went out of the door, settling into a slow jog and putting in her earphones. The country lane was empty, as she'd expected. She felt half guilty about coming to visit her brother like this – he'd been so happy to see her. If he knew what she'd really gone out to do, he'd have a heart attack.

Truth was, when she decided to do this...crazy thing, her first thought had been how did she find a crossroads that wasn't paved over? The answer had presented itself in the form of her little brother inviting her up to his house for 'family comfort' after the accident. Joshua lived in a rural part of Hertfordshire, not too far from central London where she lived. It had been like a godsend. She'd checked what she needed and set off straight away.

Her father would be turning in his grave if he knew his precious daughter was about to try and summon a demon, but she honestly couldn't think of any other choice. One glance at Jason's face and she'd known he didn't have the strength. She didn't need another doctor to tell her that he had a snowballs chance of ever recovering from the coma. That was the curse of being a doctor yourself – when someone you love is sick, you know exactly what their going through. You know when there's no hope.

So that's what had led her here. The crossing point of two dirt tracks under moonlight. She crouched and pulled the small gardening trowel out of the deep pockets of her sweatshirt, shifting some earth aside and placing the box inside the tiny trench she'd made. Contained within was a very unflattering picture of herself along with some graveyard dirt and a bone from a black cat. _Sorry Dad. And sorry Josh's neighbour for kinda...killing your cat. _She closed the hole, patting down the Earth. _Wonder how long this will take._

"Going to stay in that position? I mean, don't get me wrong, the view of your backside in those jeans is working for me..."

Evangeline jumped to her feet, turning around to face the man who'd just appeared behind her. He was attractive, she noticed with some disdain, eyeing his fussy brown hair. _Guy probably uses more beauty products than I do. Actually, what am I thinking. He's a demon, they probably just roll out of bed with sexy hair unlike us mere mortals._

"Well, what'll work for me is us getting this over with as soon as possible. So here's what I want. There's a man in Whittington Hospital called Jason Peterson. He's in a coma and I want you to get him out of it."

"Okay, easily done. Now, there's your payment options. Our new king has had a little fancy cross his mind for a wife-"

"Nope."

"Now wait, I hadn't finished" The demon chided, smiling. With his red eyes, the smile just looked predatory, not reassuring. "You can choose to be part of a group of women put forward for the role. If Crowley doesn't pick you, you go back to your life soul intact. If on the off chance he does pick you, he only expects you to spend a year with him. Then you'll be allowed to leave."

"Right. Where's the razorblade in this candy coated bullshit you're stuffing down my throat?"

"No catch. The same offer is being made to any woman who tries to make a deal with us. Well, any woman under 30. Crowley was particular about that."

"If I said yes to this other deal, what exactly would happen?"

"I'd take you away to Crowley's place and take you to the ballroom. We're gathering all the women there tonight for him to pick his...shall we say _lucky _lady? You'll be sent into him in small groups and he'll pick one person from each group, then whittle it down. Like I said, it's unlikely you're picked; we're calling in on other people who made deals to see if they'd like to change he terms. I reckon we'll have loads of takers."

"Mmhm. So I'd just have to be his wife? Not sleep with him or actually like or love him?"

"Not so far as I know. But if I were you and I got picked, I'd hate him in _SILENCE_, mind you."

"I can do that. What about him? Can he hurt me? Or kill me?"

"No, he can't kill or permanently maim you. Alright then, if you're satisfied hunter girl-"

"I'm not a hunter. My dad retired and I didn't go into the business." She stated flatly, clenching her fist.

"Okay, okay...Jeez I was only kidding."

He approached and she resisted the urge to lick her dry lips. _He's a demon Evan, stop getting all girly and get the deal sealed._

The demon pressed his lips to hers, snaking his arm around her waist until she quickly pulled her face away. He winked at her and pulled her tight against him. "Hold on tight and we'll be there in no time. I can't take you all the way, my teleportation ain't that great, so I'm dropping you off at the half way point. You'll transfer to another guy who will take you from there to Crowley's place."

"Where exactly is it?"

"Oh some big place in America." He replied, letting go of her. She was vaguely disturbed to realise that they'd already arrived without her even realising they'd gone anywhere. Red eyes noticed, of course. "That's right baby I'm a smooth ride-" He purred

"And I'm already taken, possibly even twice." She shoved him off and he chuckled darkly. There was another Demon nearby who was watching them with resignation. "You my flight change?" He nodded and grabbed her arm.

"You ever change your mind, go to a crossroads and ask for Richie" Her dealer called after her as the world changed again.

When things solidified again, she was in a large open room, just like her guy Richie had said. _Did I just seriously think of him as 'my guy'? Next I'll be calling him pal..._She thought, wrinkling her nose. Sulphur. How delightful. Definitely Demons then. There were two rows of chairs set back to back in the middle of the floor along the length of the room, on which women were perched. Some had chosen not to and were standing against the wall or pacing nervously. They were all different and there was a clear range of ages, with the youngest maybe 18 and the oldest looked to be thirty like Richie had mentioned. The one thing in common was that none of them were talking to each other. The only person who didn't avoid Eva's gaze was a woman sitting down, who flashed her a smile. She was heavily pregnant. Eva smiled back and mouthed good luck, already knowing internally that Crowley wouldn't pick the woman. The woman beckoned her over and Evan complied, grateful for a little distraction.

"Hello, I'm Tara."

"Evangeline, but everyone calls me Evan, hey. You from Ireland?"

"Is the accent that obvious? Or was it just my name."

Both women laughed and Evan nodded towards Tara's stomach "Boy or girl?"

"Both. Twins, god help me. First time pregnant. My fiance practically fainted, I think I took it better than he did" Tara giggled, clearly wrapped up in the memory.

"Still, at least they'll both have someone to play with growing up. Someone who'll always have their back." Tara smiled and nodded.

"That'll be nice. Plus it means that since I only ever wanted two kids, I only have to go through one pregnancy – RESULT!"

Both women burst out into hushed laughter again, trying to turn down the volume on their mirth. They were attracting quite a lot of attention. Evan sobered slightly when she saw the worried faces of others turning to look at them.

"So, Tara. Uhm."

"Go ahead and ask it. It's what everyone here wants to ask each other. I'm not ashamed. We've all made our deals, so why judge?" By now, every eye in the room was riveted to them. You could hear a pin drop.

"Okay, what did you ask for?"

"This gorgeous face of course" Tara pouted a little, which caused some laughter from those nearby "Kidding, of course. I heard some stories about being able to make a deal for anything. With these two on the way...well. My fiance is just a bank teller and he's got his dad's debts to pay, I'm just an artist so...I figured we wouldn't be able to support two kids on the money we have. I didn't want them to miss out on anything, not because of their silly mom who thought she'd be a successful artist and ended up making a pittance instead of going to law school like her parents told her."

"Hey, you're doing something you loved, you're with a guy you love and you're going to have two kids. Don't be hard on yourself!"

Tara smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. "Thanks honey. So...?"

"Me? My boyfriend he...had an accident two days ago. He's in a coma. Doctors said he'd probably slip away after a few days, severe head trauma. It was stupid, so stupid."

Tara gestured to the seat besides her and Evan took it before raising her voice so everyone else could hear her. "And all you eavesdroppers can gather in too. This whole pretending we're not all scared shitless thing and not even looking at each other thing is old. We may as well pass the time dishing the dirt."

Women filtered across the room into a rough circle gathered on one side of the chairs, some staying more to the fringes than others.

"He rang me late the other night, on his way home. We're both doctors – met when we were doing our foundation years. We've been dating for two years now and he's been acting all secretive and extra loving. He's been taking me out to fancy restaurants and I always think he's going to say something, then he doesn't."

"You think he's going to propose?" A girl who could only be twenty at most practically squealed "That's so exciting!"

"I know! I'm terrified though" Evan's hands fluttered. "Not because I don't love him, I do, but because he has such terrible taste, I'm partly afraid of what ring he'll have picked."

"He picked you honey, so the man clearly has some sense of taste." Tara replied and there was a smattering of agreement and people reassuring her that it'd probably be fine.

"So...yeah. He was on the phone to me and said he was coming home and that he had something important to say then I. Well, I heard a skid and crashing, then a car alarm. I was screaming his name down the phone, but there was no answer. I had to ring his mum just to find out which hospital he'd been taken to. She didn't think to ring me herself..."

"What a cow-"

"Bitch-"

"I take it she doesn't approve of you then?"

"Not in the slightest. His parents are _very _Christian and my family hunts demons."

There was a pause while that latest revelation sunk in before there was a general outcry of shock that was a pure wall of sound until someone near the back shouted "Seriously? Like, for real?"

"Yep. Family business. My dad gave it up after my mum's death though and forbade me from ever risking my neck like that."

"So instead you made a deal with a demon." Grinned the woman on her other side, sticking out a hand "June, by the way."

"Nice to meet you. What was yours then?"

"Well, I was dating this guy..."

* * *

Crowley watched the security feed of the ballroom with interest. So he had a hunter in the room? Well, someone with hunter blood. Always interesting. The pregnant woman was laughable – She clearly knew she was safe. Another testament to the stupidity of Demons that they had even pitched this to someone he so clearly would not want.

"Seen anyone you like?" Jonathan asked, pulling up a chair and offering Crowley some of his popcorn.

"Plenty of reasonable looking ones. But we'll have to see how they cope with the little tests we've got."

"Very refined tastes you've got there boss. Individual."

"Got my reasons. Tell the boys to stop bringing in new ones, I think we have enough for phase two."

* * *

"And _then_" June continued, choking on her laughter, "_Then_, this poor woman he's been cheating on me with says 'excuse me? But he said he was a talent agent...does this mean I'm not going to be famous' and I was like luv...he's done this to twelve other girls that I've found out about, probably more."

There were mixed hisses, chuckles and boos. "So, I thought to myself; June. You've got cancer that'll kill you in maybe a year and your 'boyfriend' is a scumbag. Why not go out on a limb? Ten years sounded better than one, _and_ I got the demon to throw in a little surprise for my darling man. You ever hear that old wife's tale about how guys get hairy palms if they have a little meeting with rosie palm and her five daughters? Weeeeelll...Let's just say...every time he's with a different woman he gets just a little more...sasquatchy?"

Evan snorted rather indelicately with laughter. "You have a cruel sense of humour. I approve. Especially since he could easily put a stop to it if he were just to settle with one woman."

"I hoped that it would teach him to change his ways...but last I saw him he looked a little like Chewbacca's distant cousin."

This one got a bigger laugh than ever and Evan was relieved to see everyone in high spirits until she registered the sound of the double doors opening.

"Oy oy girls, we've got company. Good luck to you all. Whoever gets the short straw, just remember it's only a year." Evan said jerking her thumb to the door. People started wishing each other luck, their lines drawing back into worry. _At least I distracted them for a while._

"Don't worry 'bout a thing darlings" Tara piped up "Clearly gunna pick me for my sexy silhouette"

"You're rocking that pregnant figure!" Another woman called out as everyone got to their feet, their laughter a lot more strained than it was before.

"Seriously though, good luck Evan. It's unlucky that you're such a skinny young thing."

"Yeah, makes it more likely he'll pick you" Murmured June

"I'm banking on the fact that I'm from a hunting family. He won't want someone who might kill him at any minute sleeping in his house, surely."

"Who knows with Demons eh? Masochists the lot of them. If we get out of this, we should make a facebook group."

"What the hell would it be called." Evan laughed and June's face twisted in thought.

"I'll get back to you on it. June Lansdon."

"Evangeline Clairmont."

"Tara Collins"

Evangeline raised her voice "Any other takers on the facebook friending?"

A man's voice drifted across the room and she instantly analysed the accent. British. Slightly cockney, but not fully blown. She'd have to guess that he'd spent a lot of time in London but not actually been born there. She was so caught up in analysing that she didn't even hear the words until Tara nudged her painfully in the ribs.

"Ow, fuck, what was that?"

"I said." repeated the man in a dangerously quiet voice "Are you seriously using this as an opportunity to advance your number of facebook contacts?"

"Oh yeah. I mean, who else can I complain to about next doors ghost and have them not call me crazy?"

"Amen to that, my name's Rebecca Jonstone. It was so fun talking to you guys."

"Me too, I'm Sarah White-"

"This is NOT a bleedin' MOTHERS MEETING!" The man roared, shooting Evan a death glare that made her instinctively want to shrivel up inside of herself.

"No, it ain't. Same as you ain't a proper cockney, Scottish boy. Don't try and pull a London accent on a Londoner."

He raised an eyebrow at her, then pointedly turned away, like the sight of her disgusted him. "Right. First test. Jonathan here's got a stick that you're all to measure against. If you're taller than it, you can go home. "

"Looks like our Crowley feller's got some issues over his size." Commented Tara with a certain twinkle in her eyes.

"Yeah. Maybe in more than one way. Men, huh? Damn my luck for being short though." Evan sighed. "I want to go home and watch Telly already."

Nobody had started forwards at the demon man's words. June threw her hands up. "For the love of christ, I'll go first then."

She strode forwards, removed her heels and stood beside the second demon man, who placed a stick besides her. She was easily a few inches taller than it. A few people whooped and June grinned "See you little darlings online. June Lansdon and my hometown is Liverpool." She fake blew a kiss to Evan, who caught it with a roll of her eyes.

"We'll meet up some other time. You know, when we're not getting almost press ganged into marriage."

June disappeared as a dark haired demon standing in the doorway zapped her away before reappearing just as quickly.

"Touching." Stated the demon Evan had mentally dubbed as 'mockney boy' "Now can we hurry it up?"

Slowly and surely, people came forward and either walked to the other end of the room if they were shorter, or over to the doors to be teleported home. Several people told Evan and Tara their names as they passed or said thank you or wished them luck. A particular girl who could only be eighteen stuck in Evan's head after she hugged both of them shyly and wished Tara good luck before being measured and clearing the height limit.

"I think we've been made the official mummies of this gathering." Tara remarked wryly as the girl went. "That'll teach us for daring to liven the place up a little."

"Well, at the least we put people a little more at their ease. Someone here is going to go through a year of hell, the least we could do is act positive about it."

"Yeah. Smile when you're down and out, as they say. At least then you've been happy."

Finally, after encouraging everyone else forward, it was only Tara and her left for the measuring. Knowing already that she was going to fail it, Evangeline walked forward to stand next to the Jonathan, nodding passively to the leader.

"Alright Mockney?" She was several inches too short. _What a surprise. Why oh why did Josh get all the tall genes from dad when I'm the one who needs them now?_

The demon measuring her snorted. "How short _are _you?"

"I'm not short. You're just a giant." She sniffed and crossed to the other side of the room to wait for Tara's turn.

Tara went ahead and got measured; she was shorter too. The remaining women let out soft chuckles as she fist pumped in mock enthusiasm. The demons who had been transporting the lucky ones away departed, leaving only the mockney and the one he'd called Jonathan.

"Right. Time for you poor lost chickies to meet your prospective husband to be. You'll be leaving the rooms in groups of five to wait in the corridor outside his office where you'll go in one by one. Do you understand me?"

"Um-"started a young girl, before her voice died under the look he shot her "Never mind." she whispered.

The Mockney one left, giving Evan a look as he swept past her. She only just resisted the urge to pull a face. The stress was making her act like an idiot, she realised. Well, more of an idiot than usual. But that might be a good thing. If she kept up the whole in your face bravado then Crowley was unlikely to select her. After all, why would he want a troublesome wife when there were plenty wide eyed, pretty women in here. Best to play it like this, rather than try _not t_o draw attention to herself. Demons could practically smell fear, but so long as she convinced herself she wasn't afraid, she wouldn't be. In theory. Oh who was she kidding?

"First group, line up here. Come on, you're all going to have to eventually."

"He's right." Tara addressed the crowd. "We might as well get it over with. Truth is, one of us isn't going home today. It might be you. It might not. So just pray to god it ain't you. Then maybe spare a prayer for whoever gets lumbered with this eejit."

"But if it is you that gets picked," Evan added, plastering a fake grin on "Give him hell. It's in the contract that he can't kill you or do you any permanent harm. So feel free to make things as hard for him as it'll be for you. It'll definitely teach him not to try something like this again."

A ragged cheer went up but was cut short by the measuring demon clapping his hands sharply together. Evangeline nodded to Tara, who went to follow her. As did a good portion of those left in the room.

"Five only, can't humans count?"

Evan looked back, biting her lip in surprise. "Well ladies...I've got to say, my sex appeal has risen considerably in the last hour...Tara, we should split up. Take some of the more frightened ones in our group."

"You should hurry up-"

"Can it blackeyes. Right. You four look like you're about to wet yourselves, so come with me. Tara you take those four" Evan's finger stabbed through the air, directing people into groups. "We good? Nobody about to spontaneously combust? Great. Come on team, lets meet the king eh? I'm ashamed I didn't dress better."

"Evan, my group will go last, so we can keep the others' spirits up eh?"

"Sounds good to me Tara, remember to get in touch after! That's if Crowley doesn't turn out to have a pregnancy kink!"

" Oh ha bloody ha Miss Clairmont. Maybe he's a masochist and wants a hunter to whip him into shape, ever thought 'bout that?"

"Nope, but you can rest assured he'd get more than he bargained for with me." Evan called over her shoulder as the double doors shut behind her and her little group. They were all quite young, three blonde and the fourth a tiny redhead with flashing green eyes. She didn't say anything, settling for smiling encouragingly at them and striding as confidently as she could manage on legs like jelly.

There were four seats waiting for them when they arrived, which she took to mean that one of them had to go straight in.

"I don't suppose any of _you _want to go first?" She asked the other four, who all shook their heads. _Cowards, but that might be a bit judgemental. They're young and this is probably the most terrifying experience of their lives._ "Well, good luck all of you and remember what I said."

She gripped the handle and twisted, entering the room as quietly as she could manage. The door was shut behind her and she took a second to get her bearings.

Light beige carpet with no bloodstains (always a good sign), expensive rug (Persian?), Large fireplace (nice carvings on it + rug = expensive taste), slight breeze (the windows are closed?) She narrowed her eyes. The tassles on the edge of the rug beside the fireplace were definitely moving as if in a breeze.

_Or something breathing. Hellhound. _She decided to walk around the rug, treading carefully. There was no sign of the elusive Crowley. A little exploring wouldn't hurt. She wanted to get a better feel of the man on the throne. That was something her father _had _approved of her learning. Always try to decipher a person, he had said, before you interact with them. Look at their clothes, listen to their voice and watch the way the act. People will tell you volumes about themselves if you keep your eyes open.

Okay, Evie, come on now. Brain in gear. Bookshelf (nicely filled, leather bound mainly first editions – slightly Dusty shelves. He doesn't read these, they're for display). Side table with a tray holding a bottle and a few crystal glasses ( Spotlessly cleans, he drinks quite often. The stopper is pretty use, but these things are made to seal tight – again, often used. Smells like...scotch, the type my dad liked. Craig, I think or was it craik?)

_Craig...God where was it that came from? Sutherland? Caithness? Definitely Scotland. _She thought, rubbing her eyes as she moved on to the desk. It was freakishly neat.

"Cleaned up before company did you Crowley?" she wondered aloud, shaking her head. _Probably didn't want nosey people like me seeing all his papers. Smart demon._ There were still a few things that helped her view of him though. The first were the little scrape marks on the wooden edge from him repeatedly putting his feet up. The second was that he didn't keep his drawers locked; arrogant. Or, everyone was really too scared by him to try to steal anything. In his top drawer was the usual demon fare – a few bones, some salt in a tub and a tightly sealed bottle of holy water. Paranoid then.

The bottom drawer was empty, no compartment in the base (The drawers aren't as deep as they appear from the front. She turned her hand upwards to feel the underside of the upper drawer and struck gold. Concealed behind the overhanging front side, there was a book taped to the underside of the top drawer.

She glanced at the book _Greek tales of the underworld. _She sighed as she looked at the contents. She knew these stories already, so she replaced the book and headed over to the window.

It was surprisingly bright outside. The sun hadn't set here. The crossroads demon had said America, which meant if she was towards the west coast it was about five hours earlier, which would make it about 6pm, but she was more inclined to believe she was towards the east coast because of the level of light still around.

"When you're done, darling, come have a seat would you. Watching you go all Nancy Drew has tired me out."

She jumped at his sudden voice, probably visibly but she laboured to make her face neutral. She already knew this voice. The demon from earlier. Scottish drink. A man who sounds like he might be from Scotland. _He's Crowley. But does he know I know. _

"Hello then Crowley." She said, walking slowly as she decided where to sit. She could sit on the couch near him, or sit on one of the single chairs which were at right angles to the couch and the fireplace. The chairs were closer to the rug though and probably to the hellhound. _Demon king? Or Demon Dog?_

She opted for the couch after only a seconds hesitation. Crowley was watching her every move in an irritating, unblinking way. She turned to look at him coldly, refusing to be the one to break the silence.

After maybe ten minutes, her neck hurted and Crowley was still sitting there smiling at her like he had all the time in the world. _Well, since he's actually a spirit he does have all the time in the world. _She allowed her thoughts to wander. _The other girls are probably worried about why I'm taking so long in here. It's been very quiet outside. Maybe he'll get bored and let us all go for the night. Demons sleep too, I think, just not as often..._

"Tell me about yourself." He said suddenly, taking a deep swig of a glass that had suddenly appeared in his hands.

"Nothing much to say. Ask and I'll answer, but don't expect me to just spill my whole life story Mockney."

"Why do you think I'm not from London."

"Your R's sound a little off. I'd imagine you spent an awful lot of time there, but some things are just engrained. Also, that's craig. Scottish, only get it in one particular county. Can't remember if it's Caithness or the one south of it, Sunderland."

"It's Caithness. I'm impressed. A woman who knows fancy liquor just from a sniff."

"Oh so you _were_ watching. I wondered why the room was _conveniently_ empty."

"Yes, I'm sorry that you're the first I have to interview. You're almost certainly going to be the most interesting. Criticising my desk. Finding where I stashed the book. Checking up on my book collection. Avoiding my little pet."

"Oh, so there is a Hellhound there?" she asked innocently and he set down his cup.

"You knew there was. I saw the decision on your face. Big bad demon king or nasty, but sleeping, hell doggie. Why'd you pick me?"

"That dog could rip me to pieces. So far as I know, all you want to do is ask me random questions and maybe marry me. Plus, I want to be nearer the door incase you sic him on me." _I've also got a handful of that salt from your desk to throw in your eyes, so I should be able to get away from you if I'm fast enough. But I'm hardly going to tell you that now am I you idiot._

"You'd never make it out of the house. Either he'd catch up or one of the guards would grab you." He sounded amused and Evangeline loathed him for it.

"I prefer to give it a damn good try than lie down and take it."

"That so?" Crowley stood. "I think we're done here. What was your name?"

"Evangeline."

"Nice. Means Good News. Well, I've got good News for you. I've decided that I like you."

_Crap._

"I think I'm going to choose you. In fact, I was almost determined of it even before you walked in this room. A docile little wife would be a lot less fun. Turning someone like _you_ into a docile little thing...now _that's_ entertainment" He grinned widely. She sunk her head.

"It's settled then. Marriage in a week, but I'll start your year now to be kind. You'll have half a day to say goodbye to your family and gather your things. Then I'll come collect you. I'll go tell the other girls. You can imagine how relieved they'll be."

She stood and followed him even though he hadn't invited her to; he didn't comment but led her back to the ballroom. The other girls from her group were shooting her worried looks. They'd already guessed what had happened.

She met Tara's eyes straight away and saw that she had realised. She started forwards but Evangeline shook her head. Crowley would only get a kick out of Tara getting angry or upset.

"Well Ladies, Sorry to disappoint but I've made my decision and here she is" he smiled and placed his arm on her shoulder. The salt was still in the palm of her hand. Would it work on such a powerful demon though? "She was so captivating with her motivation of you all that I could hardly resist such a clear leader."

"Crowley?" She began, layering her voice with sweetness. "Do you want some salt?" Thrusting the palm full until it was right under his nose, she was rewarded with him flinching. So it could hurt him.

"Thanks all the same dearest, but I'll pass on that one. Borrow it from my desk?"

"No. I have no intention of giving it back, so it ain't borrowing." She licked her palm slowly, smacking her lips. "Don't you have to kiss me to seal the deal permanently?"

He nodded, staring at her salt coated lips with apprehension. She held her hands out, wiggling the fingers. He darted in for the kiss, moaning softly in pain as the salt burned him, then making a surprised little noise when she grabbed him by the back of the head and held him there for a lengthy kiss. _I'm impressed that he hasn't pulled away or cried out._

She let him go and observed her handiwork with pleasure. His lips were blistered and bleeding slightly but he looked like he'd been enjoying himself. Her stomach fluttered in response before she steeled herself.

"Damn girl, he is a masochist." Tara rubbed her stomach pensively "I'll be in contact, don't you worry about it. We'll all support you, hey people?"

Evan smiled "Thanks Tara, that'll help a lot. Take care of yourself - and the two passengers."

"Maybe when you're done queening you can come visit?" Tara suggested then her smile faded "Oh."

"Tara?"

That was when Evangeline noticed the puddle at the woman's feet. She didn't waste any time, grabbing Tara's hand and yelling for the nearest demon to take them to the hospital nearest Tara's house while the other woman wailed in panic about not being due for another week.

Crowley watched his new wife to be go with barely concealed amusement. He had the feeling that she was going to liven the place up considerably. There was no reason for him to stay so he left the room to go and carry on with his usual business. He'd call her mobile in 12 hours to pick her up, but in the mean time duty called.

* * *

Evan smiled as an adorable looking man in a ruffled suit rushed past her into the delivery room. _Tara's fiancé. Time to make my exit. _She nodded to the Demon she'd made wait to take her home and he grabbed her arm. The uncomfortable feeling of her insides spinning died down and she was inside her home in London. The demon snorted in derision at the mess then snapped out of sight. _Guess I won't be getting any more free rides...I left my car at Josh's too. Damn._

Packing was an easy task for her; Clothes were all bundled into one box, then things like her laptop, phone and ipod got thrown in on top. Then she bounded upstairs to pick which books to take. This task was harder by far; her steadfast favourites were the first to be picked. Jane Eyre, The woman in Black, Grimm's fairy tales, the turn of the screw and the shining. These were followed by her copy of the lord of the rings, then some Discworld novels and 'to kill a mockingbird'. _That'll do for pleasure reading. _She shoved in her medical textbook, her books on Greek Myths and Legends, Arthurian Legends, a bible and a herbal encyclopedia.

She hefted the box back down the stairs and checked the time, seeing with dismay that she'd already spent three of her hours packing and making sure Tara was alright. She also still had to work out how to get to the next place she needed to go. It hit her that she had her father's parked in a garage a few streets away. Would it even run? It hadn't been used in at least three years, but he had always kept it in good shape. It was worth a try.

She made two trips to the garage with her boxes. The car was shining invitingly under the tarpaulin, reminding her of long moonlit nights and road trips singing to the radio with her dad, her brother in the backseat complaining about how he wasn't allowed to ride shotgun.

When the trunk popped open, she started at the hiss as she was hit in the face with water. God, she'd forgotten that. The holy water sprayer that her mum had always complained about because it was always leaking. It had given many a demon a surprise though when they tried to break in. Police too, once when they had the trunk searched. She checked the false compartment in the bottom and was disappointed by the lack of weapons. _I emptied it with Josh when Dad left me the car. _

Ten minutes later she was on the motorway out of London heading west towards Cornwall, steaming cup of coffee in hand. She'd texted Beth and Lucy. She could only hope that one of them wasn't busy working a job and could give her some ideas. Or just family comfort. Right now she'd even settle her differences with Simon if it meant having a shoulder to cry on.

* * *

She'd stopped at a petrol station when she finally noticed that she was being followed. She'd had her eye on the car for a while, admiring it. It was a Lamborghini. Hardly inconspicuous and she'd thought nothing of it. It could still be nothing. She'd picked it up as she passed through Dorset and it was hardly a crime on such a busy road. But everytime she'd pulled over to check a map, it had slowed down until she had caught back up to it. Now it had pulled in behind her to the highway rest station.

_Demon? But their boss wouldn't let them anywhere near me. I don't have any weapons. Not even salt. Dammit, why didn't I bring the tub with me? Out of practice._

She got out of the car and jogged into the building to buy some lunch, glancing out to see if anyone had gotten out of the car tailing her. It remained parked innocently off to one side, out of the way of the petrol pumps. Waiting. She paid, then walked back out to her car as nonchalantly as she could manage.

_Out of losing them or confronting them empty handed, I'll pick running. _She waited right up until another car was pulling out, then swerved out in front of it and racing off. In her mirror she could see the driver of the other car getting out to shout at her, blocking the exit. Her follower had pulled out and was sitting behind the angry driver, blaring it's horn.

Evangeline sped down the motorway ignoring the few other cars out at this time beeping at her, leaving the Lamborghini far, far behind her.

* * *

The key stuck in the lock when she turned it, making a screeching noise as she forced it to turn and open the door. Inside, the Stratton family house smelt stale and unused.

"Home sweet home."

Once the door was shut behind her, she let herself collapse with a groaning noise. Fingers fumbled in the dark for her phone, checking her messages. Two. One was from Josh, the other from Lucy.

_Where the hell are you? You never came back last night and I hear from Jason saying he's woken up all fine. What did you do you-_

She deleted it, knowing her brother. She probably didn't want to know what he'd called her.

_I'm on my way to the house, I'll be there around 6am. Get the usual gear packed and we'll talk. There must be a loophole in the contract somewhere that we can exploit. We'll hit the books and see what we can find. It was good to hear from you though cuz, it shouldn't take a situation like this for you to get in touch. Oh and Josh has called me asking if I'd heard from you. You should tell him._

It was four in the morning, but she summoned the energy to peel herself off of the carpet and head downstairs to the basement. From there she had to trek down through the concealed passageway to the safe room. By the time she was there, she was cursing her ancestor's paranoia. The library hadn't changed a bit since last she'd been here. The same wood panelled walls covered in warding symbols, the same talismans hanging from the high ceiling, A red demon trap painted onto the floor, the lines perfectly done. There were books on every wall, stacked on shelves or in glass cabinets. A few scrolls were stored in pigeon holes near the door. The one thing the room blatantly lacked was a window.

She looked into the store cupboard, but all that was left were a few dried out herbs and some congealed lambs blood in a jar. She had more luck in the small adjacent weapons room, finding at least ten different silver daggers along with some rusted iron knives. She selected a medium length silver dagger and took one of the iron ones too, using some sandpaper to get rid of the rust and then coating it in some anti – rust solution that she found in a bottle under the main shelves. From there it was easy to grab a shotgun and plenty of salt rounds. She took a few silver bullets, but they wouldn't be any use on Demons. In the water cupboard within the weapons room, she took one of the rosaries hanging up as well as two bottles of holy water.

Satisfied, she piled her hoard all together into a bag and went to lie down for a few hours.

* * *

Crowley was quite impressed that she'd given him the slip. He'd been trying to follow her to wherever she was going, convinced that she was headed to her family's legendary safe house. Shame. He was looking for some tips on how to tighten his own security. He'd ask her sometime, when she was being more cooperative.

It was coming up to eleven AM when he dialled her number to tell her that her time was up.

"Where are you then?"

"Lands end, Cornwall."

"Hello." Crowley stated, smiling at her from the passenger seat and enjoying her reaction.

"JESUS! Why did you do that?" Evangeline clicked the end call button and turned to scowl at him.

"Why not? Anyway, You'll have to leave this...delightful car here and I'll teleport us back to America."

"I'm not leaving the car here! This was my dad's baby, no way-"

"You're as bad as the Winchesters" Crowley snorted "They're in some sort of twisted threesome with their car."

"Who are they?"

"They're Campbells on their mothers side."

Evangeline nodded, she knew the name. In fact, way back the her mother's family the Strattons had married into the Campbell family when they'd immigrated to the USA. Ancient history, but it was funny to know that even though she'd grown up a whole world away, the other branch of her family tree had ended up doing the exact same thing. Like it was almost genetic.

"Alright. Drive us to Dover then. I'll have this pile of scrap metal shipped over on a container ship. Happy?"

She nodded, "Dover's at least a three hour drive."

"Best start then." He reclined back in his seat, looking totally at ease despite being dressed in a suit and coat in the middle of summer.

She steeled herself for a very, very long year...

* * *

**A/N So what do you think? Leave me a review please, like I said its my first fanfiction so I'm more than a little nervous**


	2. Badass Family

**A/N Thank you so much for the reviews! Really, they inspired me so much to continue and get this new chapter out as soon as possible. So, without further ado...A new chapter! **

**Oh, one thing... there's a little bit of (badly done) latin in this chapter that I translated for you readers at the bottom.**

**Disclaimer: Alas, supernatural...You do not belong to me. Yet.**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Badass Family**

Evangeline dumped the boxes containing her belongings in the corner, stopping only to retrieve the iron knife and slip it under one of the pillows on the bed. The maid scurried out of the room, darting a semi-disgusted look in her direction. Frankly, Evangeline was too tired to care what the few humans in this house thought of her. _After all, they chose to work here for a demon. If I had a choice I'd be a thousand miles away from Crowley. Their salaries must be enormous..._

She collapsed onto the bed, toeing off her boots as an afterthought. The journey here hadn't been quite so bad as she'd imagined. Crowley hadn't stayed in the car with her the whole journey; he'd popped out on 'business' after a few minutes, leaving Evan to spend the long drive singing to queen at the top of her lungs. Her dad's music collection he'd left in the car was a bit...classic, to put it nicely, but the songs held fond memories for her. Another of the king's little cronies had met her in Dover to take care of the car and take her to Crowley's place.

_I hope to high heaven that Crowley is always this busy on business. If every day is like this, the next year is going to be pitifully easy. Seeing him a few minutes a day suits me just fine._

So now she was here. Wherever here was. Jonathan, Crowley's senior little bitch, had shown her around most of the house. Apparently she had free reign except for Crowley's study. The staff were mainly human, from what she could tell. She'd made the relevant sounds of excitement at being told she was also free to use any of the cars in the garage and that they were almost sorted with her new credit card for an account Crowley had set up in her name.

_If he had his way I'd be a kept woman, not his wife. _She realised, to a great deal of amusement. _Crowley must be deluded to think I'd take a penny of his blood money. As for the car, I have feet._

Deciding she'd check out the area surrounding the house after she'd gotten some sleep, evan changed into some sleeping shorts and a university t-shirt of Jason's that she'd long ago taken ownership of. Laying in bed surveying the opulent room, her last thought before she hit the pillow being that Crowley for all his faults at least had great taste in decoration.

* * *

_She was sitting on a swing, laughing and swinging her legs wildly while her dad pushed her with as much force as possible so that she almost flew-_

_She hit the ground and cried out as the demon pressed his foot onto her back. Somewhere her mother screamed. Her bedroom carpet smelt of soap and dust, she couldn't breath as he forced her face down into it. There was a thud and the pressure on her back lifted. Then her mum was there, holding an iron poker from the fireplace downstairs..._

Evangeline drifted through the memories, as powerless as a tadpole in the ocean. She could feel the one she dreaded most approaching and fought it with everything she had, until finally she felt herself surfacing into the cold, welcoming feeling of awareness.

The bed dipped down on the other side as someone got beneath the covers slowly. _Jason_. She rolled over and draped an arm over his chest, insinuating her leg between his. He was pleasantly warm and she subconsciously rubbed herself further against his side in the search of warmth. He really _WAS _warm, she realised, rising further from the confines of sleep in worry. Maybe he'd caught something from a patient at the hospital...

But he couldn't have because he currently was a hospital patient.

The only reason Evan jumped out of the bed at the speed of light was because she couldn't move any faster.

"What-? You-? Jace-?" Confusion was making her incoherent. Crowley folded his arms behind his head and leant back against the headboard, grinning.

"By all means, don't let me stop you. I was expecting a slightly chillier welcome, I admit-"

"WHY ARE YOU IN MY BED?"

"Easy now Goldilocks, _You_ are in _MY_ bed."

She bit down the urge to hiss at him, but only barely. "Is this in the contract?"

"Of course."

"What exactly is the wording." He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"For every night of that year, Evangeline Stratton will be required to sleep in the same room as her husband and act as any average wife would, excepting consummation of the marriage which will be entirely at her discretion."

"Too right it will be. Okay demon. If that's how you want to play it."

Evangeline grabbed the covers, ripping them off the bed. Crowley raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. She cocooned herself in the covers, pulling a few pillows to the ground with her.

"You know, I could just as easily come and sleep on the floor next to you-" He faltered as she thrust the iron dagger in his face.

"_**Fabricati Diem Everto.**_" She snarled. "Try it and I will gut you."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. You were the one cuddling up to me like I was your favourite person in the world. Have fun wedding shopping tomorrow, _wife_."

* * *

She really was in hell.

"Oh Mama, you would not believe this..."

Now that she looked at the mansion from the outside, she truly realised the scale of the house she'd be living in for the next year. _There's even a little fountain in the front court...and columns. Hell, I thought being a doctor earned a more than decent wage but this..._She mustered her courage and headed towards the building off to one side that Jonathan had directed her towards.

The inside was similarly gut wrenching; cars lined up in neat rows. There were about ten and of mixed make, but most were vintage. All were expensive looking and shined until they gleamed.

_Okay, Evan, pick a car. It's not hard girl, come on. Just this one time. You need a car for the moment. Take a damn car and suck it up. You need to play along a while._

She grabbed a set of modern keys from the wall and clicked the button to disable the locking system. The lights on a silver Porsche bleeped at her from the front row. She tried not to hate herself too much as she slid into the leather interior. _So much for 'I've got feet'! But I have to suss out the area..._

Her thoughts chased each other guiltily through her mind as she sped down the drive and away from the house of horrors. The houses she passed were all sprawling, with much evidence of private pools or tennis courts tucked away to the sides of each property.

When she finally reached a sign, the car swerved dangerously as she blinked twice before laughing hysterically. _Beverly Hills. Beverly. Fricking. Hills. I need a cup of tea. Right now. Maybe a paper bag to blow into. This is...oh hell. Get to a Cyber cafe, Lucy says. Will there even be one around here? All these rich people probably don't need to be cheap and use public facilites like that..._

* * *

After cruising around aimlessly for a while, she found a Café that had a discreet 'wifi hotspot' sign in the window. She lugged her laptop inside, feeling in her pocket to check that her credit card was there. She didn't want to use the one Crowley had given her, not because of pride but because he would know what she was buying and where she was going.

Mug of steaming tea in hand, she sought a booth near the back of the shop and fired up her laptop. _Thank you Lucy, you angel without wings _she crowed internally at the sight of a message in her inbox from her cousin.

_**Hey Cousin!**_

_**So, I've been doing what you asked, digging around for information on Crowley. But there's something a little crazy that has popped up. I've spent so long smacking magnets that at first it didn't occur to me to just try searching the name online. But I did the usual database checking, cross referencing. I went back a few hundred years but Nada. Which is why this next thing is going to sound insane.**_

_**You remember you asked me to check into the Campbells after Crowley mentioned them and some "Winchesters?" Well, I found birth records for a Sam and Dean Winchester in Lawrence, Kansas. Though everything gets hunter style fishy after that – wanted in connection with various strange cases. One of them is apparently dead, but then he was sighted several months later. I reckon from the lack of trail these poor cops have, the boys are using fake ID's and false credit cards. Makes sense really. Anyway, I rattled up some info from contacts on the other side of the pond, but you know how it is. They don't want us meddling in their business no more than we want them meddling in ours.**_

_**Anyway, that's not the weird bit. I was doing some digging into "Sam and dean" and I found the weirdest thing; There's this series of books by a guy called Carver Edlund that have two characters called Sam and Dean in, no second name given. But this fangirl 'samlicker81' (Yikes, right?) claims on her blog that the characters are totally real and that she met Sam and Dean **_**WINCHESTER. ****_Now, either this Samlicker girl was delusional or there's something in these books. I checked the first one out last night and whoever he is, this Carver Edlund guy really knows his stuff. So, I trawled through some AWFUL fanfiction (thank me later) and it turns out there's a character called Crowley who, guess what, is a demon. The books never went into widespread release, but you should be able to get your hands on a few copies. I'd suggest reading through a couple for mentions of Crowley, see if the book describes him. If these books really are based on real life then we have a potential gold mine of knowledge on the situation over there in 'stripes._**

_**Anyway, that's it I'm afraid. Keep me updated on everything Evie or I swear to God I'll smack you when I next see you. How is it over there anyway?**_

Evangeline sighed and rubbed her eyes. _Books about the lives of two hunters, detailing the slaying of demons and vampires. Whatever will they think of next. _She cracked her knuckles and began to type a reply as fast as possible.

_**Lucy,**_

_**I'm in my own personal Hell. Beverly Hills. Yes, you read that right. Beverly. Fricking. Hills. I am surrounded by pretentious rich people. The next person to ask me if I'm English when I talk to them is going to get a slap. What, they think I just put on the accent for fun? Jesus. Crowley is loaded, from what I can tell. Probably not got his fortune from honest means though. Or the wealth comes from his meatsuit. I've been sent out to go get fitted for my wedding dress at some boutique or other and select what Jewellery I want. It's happening in a week. Apparently I am allowed to invite whoever I like, but honestly? Who would I be able to invite to a wedding with a Demon is the Bridegroom? Eurgh. I'll send you, Chris and Josh tickets. You're welcome to decide not to come, but I really would like a bit of moral support over here.**_

_**I will try and get in contact with this Samlicker girl. Probably quicker than reading that entire book series. Maybe she can help, if she's that much of a fangirl. The things you make me do lucy...**_

_**Evie**_

She sent the message with a smile, before tapping the buttons and bringing up her facebook page. _Fourty six new friend requests...Must be my demon deal pals. _

She accepted them all, laughing over an invite from June Lansdon to the private group 'Soulless and sexy', accompanied by the short message; JOIN WOMAN! TARA TOLD ME YOU GOT PICKED!

She accepted the invite and posted a short message to reassure everyone that she was not yet wearing all black and flaying the souls of the evil masses in hell. It boosted her mood a little to see the chat on there with people worrying how she was doing. They made her promise weekly updates on her progress on wriggling out of the deal which she had agreed to, but had assured them that there would be very few updates since she didn't think she'd be under Crowley's thumb for more than a week or two.

The demon sitting in a window booth watched carefully as the new Queen to be shut down her laptop and left the café, leaving a generous tip on the table for the waitress. Quietly, she pulled a mobile out of her pocket and placed a call to the other guards.

"Queen Bee on the move. Far guard pick her up as she passes. Tell me where she goes after I change suits."

The Demon left without paying, ignoring the waiter who ran after her into the street. She ducked down an alleyway, the luckless waiter following her.

"Miss! You forgot-"

The next second, he was pinned to the wall. Five minutes later, he walked back out of the alleyway and consulted his phone.

_Rodeo Drive. She's back on the original timetable._

He deleted the message and weighed the waiters car keys in his hand before clicking the remote unlocking button. A nondescript car across the road flashed it's lights. Perfect. Now he just had to inform the king of his fiancé's little deviation from the plan that had been set out for her today. He'd be very interested to know.

* * *

Evangeline had never been much of a dress person. A childhood of practising with weapons and learning outdoor survival tended to do that to a girl. But even she had to admit a tiny, very tiny, part of her was a little excited to be trying on wedding dresses. Not for Crowley, but because she did after all have a real-maybe-almost fiancé waiting for her back home. If he ever got up the courage to ask her, that is.

So she made it through the dress fitting by daydreaming idly about what her wedding dress for Jason would be like. The attendant chattered away animatedly, but she couldn't bring herself to focus on anything but her plans for getting out of here and what she'd do when she saw Jason again.

"This one's nice, I'll take it." She told the girl.

"Alright, if you're sure you don't want to try any different ones?"

"I'm sure, thank you. It doesn't matter too much what I wear anyway."

The woman's hand fluttered to her heart as she smiled understandingly "Because you love each other so much that nothing else but each other matters?"

"Oh no. Because I'm pretty sure I'll have killed him before the week is out."

The smile froze on the woman's face and Evangeline took pity on her "We can barely keep our hands off of each other. It gets a little wild." She plastered a sincere grin onto her face, but could tell that the woman was only half buying it by how she quickly put as much distance between herself and Evan as possible.

It was at that point that Evan noticed him, when she was trying to avoid catching the shop attendants eye whilst she packaged up her dress. A young man across the road from the Café she'd been at this morning, sitting on the bench and drinking from a steaming cup. He had been her waiter, she remembered. _Coincidence, Evan. It's a nice area. A guy can take a coffee break and a walk. To the same place as me._

She surreptitiously drew out her camera from her bag, inserting her credit card from Crowley into the pin machine and tapping out the number she'd been given for it. As the machine processed it, she looked back at the man sitting on the bench. Now she just needed a picture without looking too overly suspicious.

The woman seemed thankful for her leaving and said goodbye much more cheerfully than was needed. Evangeline walked slowly down the street towards Santa Monica Boulevard, casually taking pictures of the surroundings as if sightseeing. She took a few before pointing it towards the large palm tree behind where the suspicious man was sitting and snapping one before returning to looking in shop windows and taking a few more pictures. _Just your average English tourist having a gawp at the high life..._

She didn't know the theory behind it; in the words of Leonard McCoy she was a doctor not a physicist. Though her brother had ensured she was a total sci-fi geek. Her mother's cousin had married a brilliant physicist who had thrown herself into the supernatural world with gusto after nearly getting killed by the ghost of her abusive father. _Only in my family could a near death experience count as a first date. Josh met Chris when he saved him from a werewolf. Not before the thing practically ripped him in half with it's claws, but that fact seems to have been lost of Chris. Still, I'm glad Josh found someone who he could be with and not lie to. Like I had to with Jason. When I get back home, I swear I'm coming clean. He may deal with it quite well...his family is very Christian after all. They'd love to know I kick demon ass. _

As Evangeline walked, she flicked through her recent images on the camera. It was a thermal imaging camera, standard fare for her. The picture of the young man came up and her steps faltered before she picked them up again, trying to act normal. The picture was the usual blue background, the people in the background fiery oranges and reds. But the young waiter had been pure white.

"_Demons in their transphase as pure spectral beings are composed of clouds of electrical energy. The energy changes constantly which is why they aren't solid at that point. To make themselves more stable, they take hosts, but they still continue to generate Electromagnetic interference in any devices around them. Demons...well Evie, they emit thermal radiation. Much more than usual. Everything emits a little you see, but demons burn hot. The radiation is Infrared, so you can't see it with your eyes. But take a picture with an infrared camera and any demon in the picture will be lit up like a Christmas tree-"_

The words of her mother's cousin echoed from the back of her mind. A demon was following her. Had he been doing so all morning? Were there more nearby? Had Crowley sent them? Or were they from an enemy of his? Demons weren't exactly known to be best buddies with each other. Scheming, back stabbing, penny pinching liars the whole lot of them. Someone settling a score? She'd have to assume that they were not here to help her and go from there. _People mock the paranoid, but, at the end of the day... it's the person who thinks twice before going down the dark scary tunnel that survives._She smiled at her father's remembered words. He'd been a good teacher. All of the family had. But hunters weren't exactly renowned for living to a ripe old age. In the end, they'd all died. Now only her generation was left and they were the dregs in the bottom of the barrel of a once great family.

She tore herself from reminiscing and focused on escaping. Demons unfortunately could change their appearance as much as they liked. So Mr waiter could already have changed into Mrs Old Lady. Then there was the fact that she didn't think he was alone. Of course, she could just get back in her car and high tail it to Crowley's place, but she'd be damned before she let that smug bastard think she needed him to deal with her problems.

"SIT. Salt, Iron, Trap." her fingers fumbled to the pockets of her jeans. Salt in the left. Iron in the right. The little stash was warm from the close proximity to her body, the texture of the iron filings comforting.

"Trap...No time for that."

She looked out for an alleyway, but there weren't any nearby in this crazy sunshine filled land that made her stomach turn. No where for her to lead him down to trap him. She'd walked several streets, not seeing any sign of the waiter following her when she saw the library. It was cool, dark and from what she could see through the low windows, almost totally unoccupied.

_Evangeline Stratton. In the library. With the Iron bar. _She grinned at her own thought pattern and headed inside. _One security guard. No metal detectors. Beautiful. Rich people don't like to be bothered by such arbitrary things as bag checks. _

The building was in two floors; she quickly scaled the stairs to the second floor so that she had a clear view of the door. There was even a bench up there. She must remember to thank providence later. It was an easy feat to hide the infrared camera behind a chunky book on Napoleonic wars and take sneaky shots of anyone who entered.

Ten minutes and three people later, she had them. Yes, _them._ Two little supernova images that belonged to a young couple, seemingly entranced by each other. They were even walking hand in hand, she noted with disgust. _Oh they're going to pay for this. Those two look barely 20. _

She closed the book and headed for the back corner of the top floor. There was no way she could draw a devil's trap in the time she had, so she'd have to rely on Salt and iron to slow them down. Killing them was another matter. The family did have a few weapons that had been forged from a strange metallic substance that had never been identified. Lore said one of her mother's ancestors had gone to investigate a report of a meteor falling to Earth and had found a deposit of the metal within the fallen area. The metal, they inferred from sources, was formed from an angel falling to Earth. They'd had sporadic luck over the years tracking down other sites, but it seemed that Angel's fell quite rarely. Also, plenty of these reported sites were around Jerusalem and the middle east. Hardly a bus journey away. They'd recovered two already forged blades over the years; one back in the middle ages had supposedly been given to her ancestor Jeremiah in person after they fell, claiming they had no further use for it.

Lucy had reluctantly retrieved one from the store and given it to Evie. It hurt a little that lucy hadn't completely trusted her with it, but Evie had understood her cousin's uneasiness in giving something so powerful to a woman heading into the viper's nest. It was the hunter equivalent of gift wrapping a nuclear warhead and sending it to a terrorist organisation. You just didn't risk those things falling into the wrong hands.

Still, the weight of the knife as she drew it out sent little thrills down her back. After so many years...she was finally getting her chance to actively kick the crap out of demons without her father holding her back.

As the couple walked down the aisle next to the one she'd gone down, she dropped from the top of the bookshelves and onto the male demon, bearing him down to the ground with her on top. The female hissed in surprise and her eyes turned black as she crouched warily. The male was struggling beneath her, making too much noise for her liking. This place may be empty except for a few people, but those people had ears. She drove the knife in and the flash lit up the stacks around them for a second as the female turned and promptly legged it. _Didn't expect that one. Why not just smoke out?_

Evangeline stood, grimacing at the body and retrieving her knife, wiping it off on his clothes and stowing it away in her bag. Before she made a hasty exit, an idea occurred to her and she headed for the section entitled "Paranormal Fiction." She had just checked out the first five Carver Edlund novels and was walking out of the door when somebody screamed inside the building.

_As always, Perfect timing._

* * *

"Run that by me again."

"Well, Sir, we'd been changing our vessels all day so that she wouldn't notice one particular person following her and get suspicious, just like you ordered. Then she goes into a library all of a sudden after the dress fitting, so we followed her inside to find out what she was researching on account of you wanting us to figure out what she was doing in the café this morning. Then we went upstairs like she did and she ambushed us."

"So what? She could barely weigh 50 kg and you're telling me you just ran away from her."

"She killed Kai with some freaky looking blade. Like really killed him." The demon paused then added as if in afterthought "He's dead."

"You mentioned that" Crowley seethed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Was it an Angel blade? Long, thin and shiny?"

"No boss, it looked old. Kinda like the one the Winchester's have, but thinner and longer, almost like a stiletto blade. It had different carvings on it and there was a blue sheen to it as well."

"Where is she now?"

"Hell if I know, I'm waiting near her car."

"FIND HER, idiot!"

"Yessir!"

Crowley hung up the phone, resisting the urge to fling it at the wall. It was new after all. So she'd been giving the staff her version of a pep talk? He had to give it to her, she was faster than the Winchester's at figuring out that she was being followed. Scarily fast; how had she known? The thought nagged at him.

Her file that Jonathan had put together before he selected her as his wife to be was open on his desk and it was certainly interesting reading. Her family history was vast; notable events, rumours, gossip, legends, hearsay and facts. Fact; she was descended from a family that had made hunting their profession for as long as there were written accounts. Fact; Her mother had died when she was Eleven and had been a Wiccan. Fact; her only sibling was retired from hunting also and worked as a Police officer in Hertfordshire. Legend; her family owned the deeds to a house, location unknown, that was built to be totally impregnable to supernatural beings. Rumour; She was descended from a Giant slayer. Gossip; The Stratton family was wealthy, but it was tied up in properties under the names of other people. Gossip; The Stratton's had the largest network of contacts amongst hunters.

But leaving all of that aside, there was one thing that really bugged him. One thing that made his stellar instinct freeze and take a closer look. God's Grimoire. The shadow book. The source of all knowledge. The journal of the other world. La Précis. The Hunter's Bible.

Different accounts, all talking about a book. A book without precedent, that held everything that was to be known about the supernatural world. That even, some said, had instructions on a ceremony to summon God. It was imbued with spells of infinite capacity and held knowledge as old as creation. If any question was asked of it, one source claimed, the book would open to exactly the page you wanted. Some said it held the identities of every creature ever encountered and how to kill them and had been in the hands of the Strattons for generations, passing to the new head of the family when the previous owner died. Others said that it had been in the hands of the Ramsay family, or was currently somewhere in Brazil. The Turner family in Germany claimed they had it. Everyone seemed to have different opinions on where the book was now. But Crowley was convinced; if the book was anywhere, it was with the Strattons. They were the oldest hunting family in existence, maybe not as prevalent now, but they would never have let something like this slip the net, especially if it had been around for centuries. The Strattons had been powerful a few hundred years ago, they could have seized it then. And if Evangeline was any example, they weren't the type to let anything be taken from them.

It could very well be a hoax. But all Crowley knew was that if this thing existed, he wanted it bad. Really Bad. It was fate, he decided, that the current head of the Stratton family had been among the possible people he could have selected. He would have picked her out of all those whimpering saps anyway, but this added extra sweetness to the deal. Now all he had to do was win her over to his way of thinking.

It was a testament to his sense of his own power that Crowley didn't for one second consider how this may not be that easy for him to achieve.

* * *

Evangeline waited until the demon had trailed off in the direction of the library before she came out from behind the tree and got into her borrowed car. So it had been Crowley that sent them. As undercover bodyguards? Psh. Like she needed them.

The journey back to the house was shorter than she would have liked and one of her favourite songs came on the radio just as she arrived back. _Why is it that on long journeys there is never anything decent on, yet when you don't have the time or are just leaving a great song comes on but you can't stay to listen? _She wondered, sliding out. It was 4.30 pm roughly, but the sun was still high in the sky. Besides, she couldn't just hang around in the garage. She had a little business to take care of.

The first port of call was her room. _Crowley's room._ She reminded herself. Damn. She couldn't hide the books here after all. The bed had been made though, the covers no longer lying on the floor where she had left them this morning. The whole thing reminded her jarringly of the experience the night before where she'd nearly jumped Crowley's bones. It had been only the fact that she was so tired that she hadn't rolled right on top of him like she usually did with Jason, who had never objected to their late night routine. Okay, so it wasn't exactly scented candles and background music, but with the insane hours that they both worked it suited them both.

Evie shivered a little at the warmth those memories stirred within. _Oh hell no. Don't even think about pining about the lack of action you're going to get in the next however long you have to stay __here. Grow some backbone; You aren't a hormonal teenager._

Still, the prospect of months, maybe a whole year devoid of sex or for that matter _any_ physical contact didn't exactly fill her with joy. She'd eat dung before she ever even considered letting Crowley touch her in any way, be that hugging, handshaking, kissing-

Oh Hell on Earth, she'd already broken that one. He'd kissed her for the deal and at the wedding...They'd have to do it again. In front of her family too. Ah crap. Josh was sure to lose his cool over that one.

_Josh..._She'd called her brother and finally told him this morning, before she left for the café. He'd taken it well, all things considered. Only ten threats against her life for having 'the brain power of the average plankton' and enough swearing to make a trooper blush. He'd threatened to come over there right now, but she'd quickly told him not to and hung up just as he began ranting about tracing the call. He'd come around. Eventually. Hopefully. Maybe...

She put the books at the bottom of the pile of books she'd brought with her, hoping Crowley if he got curious might just overlook them. She'd find a better place to put them once she'd explored the house. The hallways were empty, any demons here were on the front gate or stationed around the property. The only one she'd ever seen to actually come in here without Crowley's specific ordering was Jonathan, who was frequently in and out of the building.

She was looking for a hatch, something that would lead into the attic. She wandered the whole of the top floor and didn't find anything. _Maybe there's an actual set of stairs? Through one of the doors?_ The rooms she searched first were spare bedrooms, each with their own en suite bathroom. She came across one main bathroom with a jacuzzi tub that looked big enough for ten. _Should have realised Crowley was the type._

Over the next twenty minutes, Evangeline found a sauna room, a games room of sorts that had a retro jukebox and pool table, a door that lead directly onto the balcony that ran along the outside of the house and a particularly disturbing room that held nothing but a long table surrounded by many chairs. Not disturbing at first glance, until you realised there were bloodstains soaked into the wood around the centre of the table and restraints that were currently dangling from the ceiling above that table. _Nice. Guess Crowley brings his work home._

Eventually, she found a room that held nothing more than an old wooden staircase. This area wasn't even carpeted and had a fine layer of dust on the stairs and bannister. Perfect.

The attic was completely clear of anything but a large water tank, which made her pause. She wasn't sure what she expected really. Humans as a species had a tendency to hoard things like old furniture, toys that children had grown out of, old clothes that were to be handed down. But Demon's didn't have children and they weren't sentimental about objects as a rule. Why would Crowley keep hold of extra? If he wanted to buy something new, he'd sell away the old one. Hmm. She'd originally hoped she'd be able to hide things amongst any trash that would be up here, but this situation might work out even more to her advantage.

It was the work of five minutes to make her way back to her room and fetch her hunting equipment and bring it back to the attic without being seen. She spread out her materials and set to work. She had a hell of a lot to do.

* * *

By the time night fell, Crowley was pissed. His Demon had not managed to locate Evangeline. The car it's way back to the house and was parked innocently in the garage, yet the entire house was an Evangeline free zone. He'd been looking for her so that he could organise a time for them to sit down to dinner together, intent on starting his campaign to make her help him by being as charming as possible. How dare she avoid being manipulated?

He couldn't very well call in his guards from outside the house; he hated bringing filth inside. It also wouldn't look very good for his image. _Help me! My wife's gone missing and I'm beside myself!_

No, he'd find her himself and make her sleep beside him tonight. Wringing her neck like he wanted to would only make her happy. Being nice to her would make her angry.

Smiling to himself at his imagined plans, Crowley checked the top floor once more. There were only three floors she could be on and he highly doubted she'd be in the gardens near all the Demons. Now, if he wanted privacy, where would he go? Where did nobody ever-

Did this place have an attic? He could have sworn that when he bought the place the estate agent had wittered on about storage space for old children's things and the space being great for conversion because it was all boarded, insulated and ready. Put in a window and it'll be nice and cosy...

Crowley was certain now; she was in the attic. The door was on the west side, he'd gone up once when he was being shown around and never bothered with the place afterwards.

As soon as he reached the door, he knew he'd come to the right place. There was a symbol carved onto the brass handle of the door. What really disconcerted him was that he didn't recognise it, or what it did. Tentatively stretching a hand forward, he turned the handle and stepped back out of the line of fire as the door swung inwards. No projectiles flew out, so he assumed it was safe to peer around the doorframe. There was a devil's trap drawn in chalk just beyond the threshold, effectively blocking him from entering. A salt half circle was arranged carefully beyond the edges of the trap, adding another barrier to his entrance. A line, he realised, would we swept away by the door when it opened; this way she could open the door and throw things out at any intruders without the intruder themselves being able to enter.

"EVANGELINE?" He roared at the top of his voice, leaning as far into the room as he dared. "We're going out for dinner."

"Do we have to? I'm a bit busy avoiding seeing your face."

"Yes we do. I know it's hard for you to look at my face. After all, I'm pretty irresistible. Are you afraid that if you look too long you'll fall so deeply in love with me that when the year is over and I tell you to leave your heart will be broken." There was a clumping noise and Evangeline appeared at the bottom of the stairs, dropping the bucket she'd been carrying with a thud.

"My heart? I worry about my general health whenever I'm in your presence Crowley. Someday that enormous head of yours is going to explode from the sheer size of your ego. I don't want to be anywhere near when that happens."

He chuckled and raised an eyebrow "Why such denial? You don't think you could love me?"

"Not in a million years. Not in a whole other universe."

"What about like me?"

"Not a chance."

"Funny, most women enjoy my presence. Something about a bad boy being appealing. Treat 'em mean, keep 'em-"

"Crowley, if you _ever_ try treating me mean, I will rip off your face and make it into a Halloween mask for my godchild. Understand?"

"I hear you loud and clear, Miss Stratton."

"It's Clairmont. I stopped being a Stratton years ago, but my brother stuck with the name. Traditional." She paused "Hang on. In the contract, did you put me down as a Stratton?"

"Yes. But no that does not make it void. You _are _Evangeline Stratton. It was what you were born as, it is how you remain. Human laws regarding name changes don't apply."

"Damn." She muttered, scratching her elbow "I thought I was out of here for a moment."

"What is all this?" He questioned, gesturing towards the room and successfully bringing her out of her inner thoughts.

"My new study. You've got one and all the other spaces in the house were filled up, so I thought I'd put my stuff up here."

"And the demon proofing?"

"I don't want your staff snooping around in my stuff or disturbing me when I'm working on something."

"What on earth would you be working on?"

"Research projects."

"I'm guessing not medical based? More to do with new ways to kill ghosts and monsters?"

"Very astute Crowley. I was retired from active duty on my late father's wishes but, now that I'm living with a demon I figured my life couldn't get any more dangerous anyway."

"You would be in less danger if you didn't kill your guards."

Her eyes narrowed and her hands went to her hips. "So they were _your _men? Why are you having me followed around? Spying on me?"

"Protection. Demons are notoriously power hungry. There's plenty out there who would be quite willing to kidnap you if they thought they could ransom you for my position."

"But you'd never give up your position just to get me back; it's not like I'm your proper wife."

"Ahh, but they don't know that do they?"

She nodded and stepped over the line of salt, careful not to smudge the lines of the devil trap. She closed the door behind her, making a strange hand movement after. The symbol on the door glowed dull gold before fading back to it's usual state.

"What is that for?" Crowley asked, intrigued.

"None of your business, that is what it's for. I can't believe you don't know a simple thing like that."

"If it's so simple, why not tell me?"

"Because you should find out for yourself. Maybe if you people over here spent more time researching into different methods of dealing with paranormal beings then you would be better at actually getting rid of things and not just banishing them."

"So there are other ways? Things other than Salt and Iron?"

"There are more refined ways." She confirmed, taking long strides down the corridor. "But I was speaking more of applications. From what I hear they only have the one demon killing knife over here."

"More now that there's so many Angels dead."

"Lucy mentioned it. Civil war in heaven and the apocalypse averted. Forgive me if I don't gasp in surprise."

"The fact that two men averted the Apocalypse doesn't fill you with Awe?"

"Not really. They're related to us and angels are very unimaginative. It wouldn't be too hard to out think them. Besides which, my ancestors slayed giants. After that, you've heard it all really."

_So that was a fact not rumour. Well, if something like that was true, then the hunter's bible surely couldn't be too far fetched._

"You own the Hunter's Bible too, apparently?"

"We also allegedly are descended from Merlin and Morgana Le fay. Don't put your trust in fairy tales Crowley. Only some of them are true."

"So you've heard of the book?"

"It's a recurring theme through history. The ultimate book, the gospel of angels, the book of shadows. Plenty of religions mention such a book, plenty of hunters whisper about it. But there is no such thing. No book can be infinite. To be able to open it's pages to whatever you needed most it would have to be sentient. It's physically impossible, but people want to believe it because it sounds like an amazing possession to have."

He was half convinced by her. She was definitely a very good liar. But not quite good enough. She was hiding something. She'd been to casual in her dismissal of the book. But she had made a valid point; such a thing if it existed was amazingly improbable and it was unlikely that it would work in the way it was rumoured to. Still, he was determined to discover what it was she was hiding.

"It definitely would be. Then again, I've always wondered how Samuel Colt made the colt? What are the bullets made of? Where did he get the inspiration? It is as seemingly impossible as the book; a weapon that can kill anything?"

"Not really. It's just a matter of the right ingredients. He would just need to be patient and logical in what he experimented with." She replied in a dead pan voice. "Where are we going to eat?"

"My favourite place. I thought we could get to know each other, the wedding is in less than a week and you can't sleep on the floor for the next year."

"I'm very determined that I won't be staying here for a whole year."

"Good luck with that. The contract is airtight. No loopholes."

"Depends on how you look at it" She said lightly, half smiling.

* * *

Evangeline couldn't believe he'd heard about it. The Hunter's Bible. Gods and Demons had sought it for centuries. Had found nothing. Crowley puts together fifty different strands of rumours that they'd been careful to piece together over generations within two days of meeting her. Chance? Or is he just much too good at ferreting out information? It'd take quite some skill to deduce that they knew the current whereabouts of the book from the web of speculation that had been woven like a tapestry, deliberately misleading those who showed an interest in the book.

He's a shark, she realised with fear. He's got the scent of blood and now he'll keep at it until he finds the nice juicy meat. You don't become King of hell just on charm. You need a ruthless mindset and instincts as sharp as a razor blade. Neither of which are good.

Still, everyone has a breaking point. She grinned to herself, her toes wriggling in anticipation. Good think Crowley was busy driving them to this restaurant of his or he'd notice her glee.

It had been too easy. So easy. The house was supplied with hot water by a water tank situated in the loft. It had taken quite a few trips, but she had removed a small portion of the water, tipped it down the bathroom sink downstairs and replaced it with holy water. That would do for now; she didn't want it to be noticeable yet as anything more than a faint itch whenever Crowley showered. The brilliant thing though was that this water also supplied the kitchens and laundry room. So his clothes would be itchy too. Then she'd gradually increase the percentage of holy water in the household water, adding a little salt too. Crowley wouldn't even know what hit him.

That wasn't even all. She was a bit gutted, really gutted, that he was taking her out to eat tonight. She'd snuck into the kitchens earlier when the staff were on a break and used a pestle and mortar to crush some iron tablets she'd got at the pharmacy into a fine powder. Then it had been simple work to mix a little of it into the powder based ingredients in the kitchen. Iron didn't have to be just in metal form to do damage. It was also tasteless in this form. Not lethal, or immediately painful, but enough to make Crowley sick after every meal.

But the crowning moment, she thought, was the Craig. His precious scotch. Now with salt and iron mixed in in a small measure.

She wasn't sure how long it would take Crowley to realise this burst of poor luck was her doing, but she was pretty sure that if she could orchestrate enough irritation and inconvenience him enough, he would get rid of her. Not only for his own sake, but because he couldn't afford to be ridiculed by a human in front of his subjects.

She just had to survive the next two weeks at most without giving away the secret. He'd have cracked by then, book or no book.

* * *

_**3 Days Later**_

On the day before her wedding to the king of hell, Evangeline awoke early and rolled over to look longingly at the bed. She'd stuck to her routine of sleeping on the floor, despite Crowley's assurances that he would stay firmly on one side of the bed and make no attempts to touch her. Keeping you pride intact, it turned out, was a painful experience. Her back was sore and her muscles screamed as she stretched them, regardless of the plush carpet and the pillows she was sleeping on. She'd had a lot worse; one of her tests when she was younger was to survive out in the open for a week, foraging food and water for herself in a dense forest whilst tracking a Wendigo. It had been raining the whole time, so she'd slept under a tree for shelter. The roots had dug into her back something awful. But she'd gotten used to living comfortably since then.

Crowley was shockingly still in bed. A first for her, since he'd always been gone by the time she dragged her arse off the floor. Years of hospital work hours meant her body relished this new ability to sleep in as long as she wanted. So she'd had some doubt over whether Crowley actually did sleep or not, since she'd never seen him do so. But he did, as evident from his light snoring.

She took the opportunity to study Crowley in the faint sunlight. His chosen body was quite old, at least ten years older than her. The man had a well developed frame; not to skinny or overly plump. He'd had an easy life, she suspected, before Crowley had taken over the reigns. He'd been quite plain, decent looking but not handsome. Refined rather than striking. Why had Crowley chosen this man? Why not inhabit a younger, more appealing host like most other demons did? Was the man wealthy? Influential? Or just plain unlucky? The cocky attitude that Crowley usual exuded was gone as he slept, removing the air of power and assurance that usually rolled off of him in waves. It was unsettling to see him like this, looking so ordinary. She could half imagine that he was an ordinary human when he was just laying there on his side, dressed only in-

She blinked and promptly choked back a surprised yelp. The bathroom door was open and she readily retreated into the adjoining room and closed the door, leaning her forehead against it.

_How in the hell did I miss that? He was bloody naked! How could I be so busy studying his face that I missed that? Surely that should be the first thing I noticed? Oh god, I would never remove all the covers if I knew he was going to sleep naked._

She thought back to the other day when she'd ripped the covers away from him. He'd been clothed then, she remembered, in boxers and a grey t-shirt. _So why the fuck did he decide to start sleeping...like that? _

Because I'm not sleeping in the same bed and I never wake up before him, she concluded finally. Or he just doesn't care what I think.

Evangeline looked at herself in the mirror and saw how flushed her cheeks were, growing ever more aware of the other voice awakening in the back of her mind.

"_Crowley must have been having an interesting dream."_ Her libido supplied, uncoiling like a cat waking up after a long nap.

_Shut up brain, shut up shut up-  
_

_Maybe that's why he picked that man as a vessel-_

_I don't care! Pass the brain bleach!_

_Too late, you saw it. And you want it. Who wouldn't?_

_I don't want it from him! He's a demon!_

_And he's packing enough for two! _

Her libido wriggled happily and Evan just closed her eyes and counted to ten, waiting for her stomach to stop dancing the tango. She admitted, Crowley's...assets, she finally labelled the offending item, was rather on the large side. It hadn't helped that Demon's clearly still have the same problem with blood flow as human men in the morning. The...thing...had been practically waving an enormous flag and declaring its presence to the world.

_Oh stop acting so innocent woman _Her libido huffed back _And Just admit that you were gawping shamelessly at Crowley's enormous cock-_

Evan turned the knob on the shower and jumped under the cold water, putting the whole experience firmly out of her mind. She didn't need this shit. Though it was quite ridiculous really, she reflected as she washed the shampoo out. She had a feeling she'd be posting a little message on the Facebook group so they could all have a laugh about it. Yeah...She could already hear Tara's hoots of laughter at the mess she'd gotten in and felt immensely better. She was over reacting; she was a doctor for Christ's sake, she'd seen plenty of naked men in her time.

She wrapped herself in a towel, schooled her face into that of a doctor and walked out of the room. Crowley was awake, propped up on one bed and smiling at her.

"Well, it _is _a good morning. Pretty woman practically naked walking into my room."

"To get her clothes. I see you've forgotten yours." She was proud of herself for how icy the remark sounded.

"Oh so you looked did you?"

"I noticed."

She stalked back to the bathroom, looking straight ahead and trying to pretend she wasn't avoiding looking at him. She'd picked up the first thing she got her hands on. It was a paintbox red dress that she'd bought to wear on her summer holiday with Jason last year. It had been grudging; he'd forced her to concede that she couldn't wear jeans all the time in Italy without baking. So she'd bought shorts and a few skirts and dresses, then worn them as little as possible. Why she'd bothered packing them was beyond her.

The dress was tighter than it used to be and she pursed her lips in discontent. Not only do I now live with a Demon, but I'm also getting fat. My life prospects continue to improve.

She checked her legs and snorted at how pale they were. Gunna scare the California girls half to death with my English pallor. Need a pair of heels first though. I doubt I can wear converse with these. Damn you fashion.

Crowley was putting a shirt on when she re-entered the room, but he spared a second to look her up and down appreciatively. He made sure to drag the action out long enough that she felt like he was seeing right through her clothes before he looked away. _Filthy Pervert trying to make me feel all exposed and nasty._

"Should I mark this day in the calendar? You dressed in something other than trainers, a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt is quite a momentous occasion."

"Hilarious. When is the last time you _didn't_ wear that suit during the day? Or even wore a different tie? Do you even _possess _other clothes?"

"Certainly." He smirked "But it's always what's underneath that matters darling."

"You're an insufferable arsehole, you know that right?"

* * *

When she finally felt her brothers arms around her, Evangeline caved in, her resolve melting like butter on a warm plate. Days of keeping calm and carrying on flew out of the window as she let herself relax fully. She could see Chris in the background arguing with a man in uniform at the baggage reclaim area.

"**Vade Mecum" **She whispered into his hair, breathing it in his ear and knowing he'd heard her when he stiffened and pulled back.

"**Sunt certa?"**

"**Sic, habet suspiciones. Dixi non habemus, sed cognovit iacebam"**

"Good to see you again sister." Josh smiled jovially and linked arms with her, dropping the subject as if it had never been raised "We're all looking forward to meeting your fiancé. In fact, when Beth and Simon heard about it-"

"You're back in contact with that SHIT?" A few passers by looked around at her exclamation, but quickly pretended to not be listening when she glared at them.

"I thought we agreed never to speak to that guy again, after what he said, what he _did_?"

"Yeah, well. This situation is pretty dire so..." Her brother trailed off meaningly and she blanched.

"Oh tell me you didn't. Please no. You did not invite _HIM._ Beth I can stand. Simon is another matter."

"He's our cousin, Evie"

"Doesn't stop me viewing him as a pustulent ooze upon the white sheet of my life. Second only to Crowley and believe me that one's a close call."

"Dad always did call you his feisty little princess."

"-before I kicked him and told him I wanted to be a ninja."

"Precisely. Just kick Crowley in the balls so hard he sings soprano for ever after. Then we'll have no problems."

"Got it chief. I'll need Lucy to make sure Simon comes nowhere near me though. If I have to deal with him _and _Crowley at once...someone is going to get punched. I can't start turning up the heat with Crowley until we're officially married; that part _has _to take place. After that he can technically release me at any point over the next year."

"I almost feel sorry for that Demon. He does not know what he let himself in for."

* * *

That night, a very strange group sat down for dinner at the Crowley residence in Beverly hills. Crowley himself, king of hell, presided over one end of the table. At the other end, endeavouring to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible was Evangeline. To her left sat Lucy and on her right her brother. Next to them was Beth and Chris, who were both shooting furtive looks at the men to the other side of them; Jonathan and Simon, who were both looking straight at each other as if poised to leap across the table and devour their opponent.

"Well, this is nice." Crowley commented raising his glass and standing " Family get together at last, I've been dying to meet you all. I should introduce myself; I'm Crowley and I'm the one blackmailing Evangeline into marrying me just for fun. This here is Jonathan, my favourite henchman and his interests are flaying skin from young children and removing people's eyelids. He's quite the hit with the ladies, I'm told"

Here he raised an eyebrow suggestively at Beth, who was the one sitting next to Jonathan and she went a sickly shade of light green. "Or maybe not. Now. Who is who then? We seem to have two more guests than expected."

Nobody spoke as he seated himself, caressing the stem of the wine glass with thick fingers. _Looks like it's me again. Thanks for the team work and cooperation guys. _Evangeline got halfway to her feet before sliding backwards as the room tilted around her. _We've not even had the first course yet and I'm drunk as a skunk._

"Since my sister is currently having a little trouble, I'll take over the introductions. My name Is Josh Stratton, this is my partner Chris. My interests are killing Demons and seeing you die painfully for using my sister like this. Opposite me, that's Lucy Hillier our cousin. She's a hunter too and she likes...oh yes, KILLING DEMONS. Then there's our other cousin Beth. She kills Demons. Then that guy next to you is Simon, our other cousin-"

"I like torturing demons." Muttered Simon, not removing his eyes from Jonathan. "They squeal like little pigs when you cut 'em up." The silence in the room at that moment was so complete that the drop of a pin would have been a deafening clank.

"Well you're all so charming, I'm almost falling over myself in pursuit of picking my favourite one of Evangeline's relatives."

"Wouldn't bother mate." Lucy sniffed, her accent thick. Northern, he noticed. North Yorkshire, or maybe Durham. "She won't be here that long. I'm betting two weeks at most."

"She's taken out a contract that keeps her here for a year." Crowley smiled at the woman as if she were simple minded. "Which means she will be here. For a year."

The family all exchanged looks with each other. Evangeline's eyes were slowly fluttering as she tried to keep them open and they kept repeatedly trying to shut themselves. _Something is afoot then. _He concluded from their faces. _Kind of them to tell me._

"Well, enjoy the food. After we've finished you're welcome to explore the house, though I suggest we all get an early night. Big day tomorrow."

* * *

Two hours later, Evangeline was slumped in Jonathan's arms, drooling lightly on his shoulder. The two demons walked side by side along the upstairs corridor which was filled with the muffled thumping sound of people unpacking in the rooms to either side.

Despite some of Jonathan's more disturbing little fetishes, Crowley valued him for his ability to not only carry out an order, but adapt to a situation. Whilst most Demons would blindly follow an order, no matter how the situation may have changed, Jonathan would change a plan if it meant the end goal was a success. Valuable, but also dangerous. He much preferred keeping this particular demon close under his watchful eye.

"So which do you think is the easy cracker?"

"Honestly boss? Every single member of that family is a person of mass destruction. But if I was picking, I'd try my luck with the torture guy. He's a messy ball of pent up anger and frustration. People like that sometimes spit things out without realising, if you're careful how you ask things."

"My instincts precisely. Tomorrow, make sure that he drinks sufficient. Make sure all of them do. Nobody but Evangeline touched their drink tonight, so they're not as gormless as they look."

"Yessir." Jonathan replied, glancing around and lowering his voice. "I've discovered a local network of leviathans working out of Sioux Falls, south Dakota. It would seem they've burned down the Singer household. The Winchesters are nowhere to be found."

"They're alive. Somehow that floppy haired giraffe and angel lover survive everything that gets thrown at them. Keep tabs on those leviathans, find out who they report to."

Crowley looked down at the slumbering Evangeline in faint disgust before lifting her out of Jonathan's arms. "I'll take her from here."

He scooped her up, trying to hold her as far away from his person without dropping her. This suit was expensive. He didn't want her messing it up.

"Crowley...You're hot."

"Why thank you."

"No really, boiling. Like a...a lobster."

"I see."

"What colour are your eyes? Are they black 'r...red or white? Your demon eyesh" She coughed loudly, flailing to stand up "Don't touch me...we're not married."

"Wouldn't have taken you for the 'saving it for marriage' type. They're white since I became king."

"Like Lil'th. 'cept you're not as pretty as her."

"You really know how to hurt a girl's feelings."

"I wanna see them." By this point, Evangeline was half leaning on his shoulder with her head grazing his chin. Her feet kept walking away from her, causing her to sway like a ship during a storm in front of him.

"Maybe some other time."

"Show me!"

He glared at her as she stopped and grabbed both of his shoulders, her breath smelling strongly of wine. He really shouldn't have increased the alcohol content of that wine to get the humans drunk faster. Crowley closed his eyes, reopening them as his demon eyes, which were the pearly white sheen of a demon of the highest class.

"They're weird...Kinda pretty." She reached out as if to poke them but he caught her hand in time. "I like your human ones better. They're such a nice colour. Hazel. _Beautiful_."

"A man might take that as a compliment. Start getting all sorts of ideas" he replied huskily and some deep part of Evangeline resurfaced for a moment because she turned and sashayed away, though the effect of her wiggling hips was ruined by her nearly tripping over her feet every few steps.

"S'long as they stay just as ideas, you can have as many ideas as you like."

"You're a very interesting drunk. Much more...liberal."

"I speak my mind...but I'll never tell you what you want me to."

They'd reached the doorway to their shared room and Evangeline leaned up against the frame, smiling like a stoner with her eyes shut. Crowley was instantly on alert.

"And what would that be?"

"Shhhh, secret. My secret in a secret. Nobody knows you know. Even I can't tell you." Tapping her finger to her lips in a conspiratorial manner, she entered the room and immediately fell upon the bed.

He watched with raised eyebrows as she took off her shoes, throwing them into the corner and snuggling into the pillows with a lustful groan.

"Might want to ease up on those noises princess, or the neighbours will talk." Only a single wall separated them from her brother's room next door.

"Do you know how good this is?" She rolled onto her back, arching upwards and stretching her arms and legs. "just to lay on a bed?"

"Well, unless you're intending on sharing you'd best not get used to it. Because I am not sleeping on the floor." He informed her, jerking his tie off from around his neck without undoing the knot completely. He changed quickly, opting to wear something to bed this time since he had actually been slightly taken aback by her waking early that morning. He really hadn't meant for her to seem him that way. Not that he minded, but it was a little awkward considering his dream had been featuring her in rather explicit detail. For her then to have walked in just as he awoke, fresh from the shower, had been a little...difficult, considering he was not used to having to hold himself back.

By the time he'd stripped down to boxers, setting his cufflinks on the bedside table, Evangeline was fast asleep, sprawled out on the bed still fully clothed on top of the covers. He tugged firmly on her arm until she opened a hazy eye and rolled awkwardly under the covers without a word, falling straight back to sleep.

Shaking his head, he climbed under with her, marking this up as a small step in the right direction. She was in the same bed. Okay, only because she was drunk as hell, but it was still a positive result. What gnawed at him though was how close he'd come to her telling him something. _A secret only she knows. A secret in a secret, she'd said. How was that possible._

As he drifted off to sleep, with Evangeline jerking in an muttering to herself beside him, the last thing Crowley thought about was the way Evangeline had looked at him earlier when she was looking at his eyes. The way she'd cupped his face with shaking hands and stared straight at him. He'd taken the opportunity to look at her eyes too. To gaze long at their deep blue hue that reminded him inexplicably not of the sea or the sky, but of a bluebird that he'd once seen when he was a younger Demon, less experienced. The colour was bright and bold, not like murky seawater or a cloud tainted sky but pure and startling in it's vivacity.

When she'd softly declared the word _beautiful_, he'd had to agree. Beautiful and a capricious bitch.

* * *

**A/N Okay, so I'm going to end there for now (I'd meant to do the wedding in this chapter but It's just so long now, 21 pages in word, yeesh...**

**My apologies for the enormous amounts of filler in this chapter. But it was sadly necessary, to introduce the whole plot element of the book. I'm quite interested to know what people think about that, so do please tell me if you think the idea sucks :) Also, do people want this to remain separate from the canon or link in? Because I'd love to include Sam and Dean, but obviously that would mean that I'd have to change canon a little for it all to fit in and I don't want people shooting at me or anything xD Any changes would me minor; I just feel awkward since there's now more OC's featured in the story than canon characters and I don't want people losing track.**

**In other news...OMG WHO SAW THE MOST RECENT EPISODE! o.o If they have dick kill C****rowley (LOL such a double meaning...) then that would kill me a little. But they can't because 'ruler of hell' is subjective - they kill Crowley and then there'll just be another ruler who falls into his place and whose blood can be used for the spell. That's what I'm clinging to anyhow...**

**Next Chapter: Weddings bells and Evangeline delves into the perilous world of Crowley fanfiction to try and contact Samlicker81.**

Translations:

Fabricati Diem Everto. – Make my day Demon.

Vade Mecum – Notebook / Journal (Essentially Stratton code for oh fuck the demon knows about the magic book)

Sunt Certa – Are you sure?

Sic, habet suspiciones. Dixi non habemus, sed cognovit iacebam – Yes, He has suspicions. I told him we don't have it, but he knew I was lying.


	3. Knight in Sour Armour

**A/N Thank you thank you THANK YOU! For all the reviews, they warm my heart so much. Sorry this took so long, but I think you'll agree that this is a mammoth sized chapter.  
**

**I've placed links to a photobucket that I've set up for the story on my profile page which has all the relevant photos of the wedding outfits and various bits and bobs, so be sure to check that out if you're interested in what these things would look like.**

**There are again bits in other language; Latin, French and some cockney rhyming slang, all translated at the end.**

**WARNING: This chapter contains some fairly graphic mentions of male non-con, abuse and some strong violence towards the end of the chapter. You've been warned people. It's M rated for a reason.**

**Canon Deviation begins here. Kripke is no doubt crying somewhere. It's minor, don't worry!**

**Disclaimer: Oh Supernatural, when will thou be mine?**

**Thanks to Hydracia for Betaing this and being so lovely in her feedback!**

* * *

**Chapter three: Knight in Sour Armour**

Extract from the journal of Camille Stratton:

_On the subject of Demons and the structure of Hell, little is known. Various colours of eyes have been witnessed, however by far the most common colour is black. From this we can assume that black demons are the lowest class of demons._

_Referred to amongst British hunters as magnets (in reference to how attractive it is to put them near iron) or Jacks (as in Blackjack), these demons are relatively low maintenance as they are easy to banish with an exorcism or trap using the simplest seals from the book of Solomon or even just a pentagram with surrounded by symbols of binding._

_Red eyed demons are not strictly under our jurisdiction. They can appear at any crossroads and it would seem from the way that several people in an area who make a deal see the same one that they are area based; one demon is tied to the crossroads in one district and so on. The deals that they strike do not increase their personal strength but Hell's collective power. Interrogations with a crossroads demon revealed that they could well be a separate division within Hell and as such are considered of higher status than the black eyed demons, regardless of the fact that they are of the same power level. The general policy is that the family donates generous sums of money to have old crossroads paved over in an attempt to reduce the number of people making deals, however we do not interfere in any deal that has taken place. Once a deal has been struck it's very hard to undo it short of finding the demon who made it and forcing them to undo it. Since red eyed demons otherwise do not attack humans, we leave them to their business and they leave us to ours.  
Red eyed demons are referred to amongst British hunters either as a magnet or as noughts, for their propensity of being found near crossed roads._

_White eyed demons are by far the most dangerous class of demons. Do not attempt to bind or attack them alone ever. Bindings to a trap should only be done with a seal of the great pentacle, the second pentacle of Jupiter or the secret seal of Solomon. They should also be bound physically, where possible, with iron chains. Further precautions are also encouraged; lining all entrances and windows with salt and iron is advised since these demons can call other lesser demons to themselves. To this date (1982) only eight sightings of such demons have occurred in England and they were never identified. What we do know is that almost half of these were in the last twenty years, whilst the rest happened over the space of at least 6 centuries. The rising prevalence is a major cause for concern amongst hunters._

_There is one other type of demon that has been observed, though it cannot be called a class as such since there is only one. It's name is Azazel and is at least as strong as a white eyed demon, if not stronger. It has been sighted mainly in America rather than England, where it was once bound by Alicia Stratton in the late 18__th__ century. The demon was held in place for two hours, during which it was more than willing to reveal its name and that it was in England searching for something. The thing was merely distracting Alicia so that it could escape. It killed her and sought out her brother who was the family's Keeper at the time. His efforts were fruitless as Joshua refused to break under the demon's torture and, when the opportunity presented itself, killed himself so that would not reveal our most prized possession. The demon then was sighted in various ancient sites of religious worship; __Göbekli Tepe, Karnak, The Callanish Stones. Our Mediterranean friends claim to have seen a demon with yellow eyes on a security tape at the Parthenon, as well as wandering among the ruins of the fallen temple of Delphi. Whilst there is no confirmation that this Azazel is the only yellow eyed demon, it is generally accepted to be fact._

_Azazel, after the incident with Alicia and Joshua Stratton, has had a non-capture order placed upon him. If he is seen in England by a hunter he is to be followed discreetly and his location reported to the Keeper. The family will converge upon the site immediately and attempt to remove him from existence entirely. The family came close once in 1904 where he was witnessed at St Michael's Mount in Cornwall. The small island off the coast is only accessible by boat at high tide, though at low tide it can be accessed by foot along a causeway. The family responded with great rapidity, alarmed by the Creature being once again in Cornwall, where the Strattons have lived for generations. The family believed him to be trapped upon the island at high tide, for even white eyed demons and ghosts are drained by the sea. The family came upon him when the tide was highest and he was at his theoretical weakest, pushing him back towards the sea. He was trapped between the family and the sea when he jumped straight into the salt water, laughing. He swam the 600m gap to the mainland, the salt having no effect upon him. When he surfaced on the other side, other members of the family who had stayed behind confronted him and fired upon him. He escaped and has since been seen in America and the Bermuda Triangle-_

* * *

When Evangeline woke, the pain in her head was excruciating, blood pounding in her ears like a drum beat. She moaned and rolled over, smacking Crowley in the face with her elbow in the process, which she took as the silver lining to her current state. He half opened his eyes and glared at her through the narrowed slits.

"What was THAT for?" He growled, voice thick with sleep.

"Pills." She waved her hand vaguely in the direction of her dresser. "Top drawer on the left."

Muttering something darkly in a language she didn't recognise, Crowley staggered out of bed and over to the drawer she had indicated. She flinched slightly when she realised that her underwear was also in that drawer, the idea of the demon anywhere near such personal items making her feel dirty in some way.

Eventually, after rummaging through the drawer for much longer than was necessary, he threw her the small packet of paracetamol before climbing back into bed beside her. The packet rustled and snapped as Evie popped out two of the tiny capsules and looked back at Crowley beseechingly. He simply raised an eyebrow and pointedly rolled over onto his side so that his back was facing her.

"I need water to-"

"Tap downstairs and glasses."

"Please?" She wheedled, nudging him with her foot and seeing him recoil.

"Keep your feet away, they're freezing."

"Get me water." She retorted, pressing the base of her foot against the bare skin of his calf. He growled menacingly and disappeared, then was at her bedside holding a glass of water.

"Now shut up or I will ram this glass down your throat."

"Oh, my hero," she drawled, struggling upright and taking the glass "What time is it?"

"6 AM, and this demon needs his beauty sleep, so shut it."

"I'm going out jogging with Lucy, so you can get your damn sleep." The pain in her head spiked and she let out a low moan.

"You are going jogging. At 6 AM. With a hangover?"

"You should try it Crowley, burn off some of that tummy." She smacked him half heartedly on the chest. "Beauty sleep only goes so far you know."

"Thanks for the suggestion, darling, but contrary to popular belief, I'm not into masochism. Tried it and it didn't quite satisfy."

"The fact that you've tried it is creepy enough for me."

"Oh Evangeline...when you've been around as long as I have..."He paused and turned to look her directly in the eye with a salacious smile on his lips "You've tried _EVERYTHING_..."

* * *

_Oh creepy creepy eww so many images.._ was all Evangeline could think as she stretched her muscles outside the front door of the house. _Surely not everything though, nobody has tried everything. Then again he's probably at least a few centuries old. That's a lot of time as a demon, spent in all sort of different bodies. Who wouldn't experiment?_

Lucy came through the door and nodded to Evie amiably, stretching long tanned legs that were toned to perfection. _If I didn't love my cousin, I would hate her for having that body._

"Tell me we're not actually jogging." She hissed to Lucy, who grinned.

"I can't believe Josh didn't see right through you that night you went to make your deal. You wouldn't even run if the full fury of Hell was descending on you from behind."

"Course not. I'd whup their arse and then walk away."

"Sure you would Evie. You look like Hell itself, as it happens."

They started off at a light jog, passing through the gates of the house and onto the long winding path. One of the demons on the gate peeled away from his partner and started following them at a distance.

"Why didn't you stop me drinking last night? I feel like something a cat's sicked up."

"You growled every time we tried to take the bottle away."

"I don't growl, I protest mildly. Now tell me why you've dragged me out at this ungodly hour?"

"Fergus McLeod. Crowley's real name. I know you were going to contact Samlicker, but I figured you'd forget like always."

"I didn't _forget,_ I just didn't get around to it yet," Evie sniffed, then winced as she felt a stitch in her side from the jogging protest.

"Whatever. So I tracked her IP address, I even struck lucky and got that guy from up in Manchester to help me out with tracking her accurately. So, her name's Becky Rosen and she lives in Pike Creek, Delaware."

"Is that close?"

"Nope, I looked it up on Google maps. Other side of America."

"I miss England. You could drive from one side to the other in a few hours. Here it'd take at least a day and a half. You sure she's the right person?"

"Definitely. Samlicker has this character called an 'OC' that she's made up herself who's called Beki. This character is insanely powerful. She's a white witch, brainiac, stick thin and 'beautiful as an angel' whilst also being a crack shot. Oh, and did I mention," Lucy paused as they headed up a hill, focusing on the run, "she is in a long term relationship with Sam, married in fact, however Dean is conflicted because he loves her too and so feels like he should hate his brother, yet loves his brother also. Also, there's this angel Castiel who keeps popping up and, of course, loves her too. She's also been to Hell once but Sam brought her back 'through the power of love'. I mean _come ON! _Mary Sue is having a field day here!"

"Mary who? Is that a demon?"

"No. But just as disgusting, believe me."

Lucy explained the term as fully as possible, watching as Evangeline's facial expression morphed from curiosity into disbelief and then into mild horror. For a few minutes silence reigned as Evangeline processed what Lucy had said mentally, trying to find an angle at which the whole thing didn't seem weird.

"That girl...wow. Anything else I should know?"

"Oh yeah. She writes Crowley fanfiction too. There's another OC she's made up called Rose who is his 'queen of darkness' and has tamed his evil ways with-"

"The power of love?"

"How did you guess? Her angelic beauty has melted his cold unfeeling heart," Lucy threw her arms out dramatically and they both wheezed with laughter. "She always sells him as 'misunderstood' and just in need of a good woman."

"Oh puh-lease. Honestly, who reads this stuff? What kind of depraved mind would find a relationship between Crowley and some poor woman interesting? I'm horrified that someone sitting safe behind a computer keyboard would think inflicting Crowley on someone was romantic?"

"Who knows Evie? There's quite a few Crowley fangirls out there though. Something about scathing wit gets them all heated up."

"I don't want to know. I really don't. Although I'm surprised that this Castiel character appeared in the books. Angels haven't been in regular contact with humans since the time of Christ, the only ones the family have ever encountered were fallen."

"Apparently, this Castiel character doesn't exist in the books. Becky is claiming that Carver Edlund wrote more books but some of the later ones, like the ones with Castiel, were never published. Crowley, it would seem, only appears once in the published books and yet Becky claims that there are more scenes with him in later books, which only she and Edlund have ever read."

"Fishy." Evie commented and Lucy nodded, tipping her head towards a café. They had reached the outskirts of the more residential area and were heading into the commercial section. Less houses, more restaurants, bars and shops were appearing.

"Want something to eat?"

"God yes," Evie puffed, her legs feeling like jelly as she halted suddenly. She really needed to get back into shape. Three years of sitting on the bench had not done her any favours. _In a few hours, I'm getting married, _she realised with disbelief. _To Crowley._

"On second thoughts...I need to go be sick," she murmured and didn't wait for Lucy to reply before dashing off.

* * *

When they'd had a long session of Evangeline freaking out in the woman's bathroom of the Café, followed by much comfort eating of every type of pastry the place had to offer, their guard Richie, who had been sitting quietly at a nearby table, called up to the house for a car to be brought around.

_Daaaaaamn, I'm actually being treated like a queen. Next they'll start curtseying. _The ridiculous nature of the mental image was enough to bring a smile to her face. _Maybe they'll call me Ma'am._

She giggled to herself, biting deeply into the London cheesecake she'd taken away from the Café. Lucy had wanted to jog back too, the crazy woman. Evie was pretty sure her legs wouldn't take another round, especially since the route back was mainly uphill.

It was disgusting really. That what had been a thirty minute jog took five minutes or so in the car. Too soon, she was back at the dreaded mansion. She could hear the sound of people talking from the main dining hall and approached quietly as she could when she recognised Crowley's voice.

"...Make sure chef has an ample supply for our guests tonight, we wouldn't want them going hungry."

"Yes sir. They will arrive around 4 pm this afternoon to celebrate your marriage."

"You did organise for those demons-"

"To meet unfortunate ends? Naturally. We cannot have them compromising the Queen's safety."

There was a low growling and gnawing noise. _He's got the hellhound in there with him. Oh my god. Can it smell me from here?_

"Of course. You should get back to...whatever the Hell it is you do."

After another brief period of silence, she crept nearer to the door so that she could peer through the crack between the door and the frame, squinting around the hinges. Crowley was standing next to the fireplace, holding a half filed whisky glass, seemingly deep in thought as he nursed the liquor near to his chest. She decided she may as well go in, since nobody else was awake and Lucy would be gone a while. She was also intrigued about these guests, since he'd made no mention of having a party that night.

He didn't even bother to look up as she entered. "So Mrs. Gym Bunny returns from her healthy crusade that lasted an epic half an hour."

"Screw you."

"Many people have. Most of them have to beg for it before I give them the night of their lives, but for you I'll make an exception." He turned and looked at her now, leaning back against the mantelpiece and cocking his head to one side. "Since you asked so nicely."

"I'm not sleeping with you Crowley." Suddenly she wished she hadn't come in as he appeared behind her, catching her wrists as he looped his arms around her. She was trapped between him and the table, his arms to either side making it impossible for her to go that way either.

"Saving yourself for marriage eh? Good Christian girl, commendable." His breath was hot in her ear, moist and – _don't even go there Evangeline._

"Crowley, I'm not Christian. But your disgusting presence could easily turn me into a nun for life."

"Don't be so sure. We've got a whole year Evangeline. I'll have you in my bed." She swallowed. "And then when we're done we can always do a little...bedtime reading? I've got a particular book in mind."

Then he was gone and cold air hit her back with a shock, like the time Josh had dropped an ice cube down the back of her shirt and she'd screamed bloody murder. Her skin felt inflamed from where he'd been, in a way that was only slightly more uncomfortable than gratifying. There had been no part in the contract, she recalled about him touching her, he just wasn't allowed to force her to sleep with him. _Why do I never remember the fine print until too late?_

_6.35 AM. May as well get in a few hours of sleep or something before I doom myself._

She stepped forward and hit something solid, blanching when she realised what it was. _Hellhound. Hellhound. Fricking HELLHOUND. Stay still. You may well have just pissed it off. Has it been sneaking up on me this whole time since Crowley left._

There was a thumping from the table leg. As something hit it repeatedly. _It's getting worked up into a death frenzy oh my God, please don't let me die. I haven't even joined the mile high club._

A bark ruffled her hair and she wrinkled her nose at the doggy breath before she felt something cold press onto her bare shoulder, revealed by the tank top she was wearing. _Is that it's nose? This thing's is huge! Are there such thing as Hellbears? Hellelephants? Oh God, can you imagine Hellgiraffes? After all, why only demonic dogs?_

Tentatively, she stretched the fingers of one hands out without moving her arm until they met the thing's chest. Taking it as a good sign that it hadn't yet bitten them off, she worked her way through the thick fur until she found its back. The table shuddered suddenly as it was hit violently again until, finally, a lightbulb went off somewhere in her skull.

_It's the tail. It's _happy_. Does it want me to stroke it? _She moved her fingers experimentally, fluffing the fur and being rewarded with a low bark from the creature. Her fingers ruffled the fur with more vigour, scratching behind it's ears and down it's back.

"Aren't you a silly boy? Hmm? Normally I'd be running away from you. Yes I would. But you just want someone to play with now don't you? You don't want my soul at the moment do ya? No, you big soppy thing." She knew she was cooing, but honestly? This thing was almost as tall as her and it was dancing around like a puppy. The rug underfoot was totally messed up and rumpled from its feet skidding about as she rubbed its back roughly.

"Good doggy. I bet you're good in a fight." A bark answered her again and she felt it leave, hearing its cantering footsteps as it ran around the table and back to her. There was the flopping sound of it shaking itself out and she smiled. Okay, it was a devil dog. But when it wasn't munching on you or some other poor sucker, it was quite...cute? Probably a good thing that she couldn't see what it looked like, or she might reassess that label.

* * *

Crowley had stayed behind invisibly to watch her reaction and he had to say the look on her face after he left was very tempting. Like she was seriously considering going straight upstairs to him. He'd relinquished her so abruptly only because he'd felt the temptation gripping him to try to touch her further, explore the boundaries of the contract. But he couldn't do that and risk breaking their deal. Not now. He would have to curb his desire for now, until she was willing. _And if she never gives in? _He mused _Well. There's plenty of others I can have my satisfaction from, she isn't special. It is only the fact that she is forbidden to me that makes me want to pursue her. _His eyes roved over her body freely, the sight doing anything but calming him down.

Her pale skin gleamed with a thin film of sweat, he eyes bright and full of something he could only pin down as excitement, or shock. She was wearing shorts and a thin sleeveless tank top, which she probably didn't realise had such a low neckline. Before he could get a little lost in appreciating the clear outline of her cleavage and the way she was panting like she'd just ran a marathon, he noticed his pup creeping up to her, tail wagging slowly from side to side. _So he knows his new mistress does he? Clever one that pup. I only pick the best._

He watched Evie's reaction and laughed fully at her intense panic. _Does she think staying rigidly still will deter it? Clearly knows nothing about hounds._

She surprised him when she reached out a hand. The surprise increased as she started petting the dog fully, even speaking to it in a sweet musical tone reserved for small children and the dangerously insane. He'd never thought her possible of it. But here she was, Evangeline Stratton, laughing and playing with a dog whose head was level with her chin. There was a difference he realised in the smile she wore now and that she wore when laughing at something he said. This one was less sardonic, more open. _Very interesting. So she likes dogs. Maybe even just animals in general. Useful fact for the future. Also, if she can act this way with a hellhound, it's not so far fetched that she might one day be prompted into believing me to be similarly harmless in certain situations._

He looked back at her as she stood there smiling at the dog which was now laying with it's belly flat to the floor looking up at her with adoring eyes. _Either way, she's gained an admirer. _He returned his attention to her, taking in her features again as she undid her hair from the ponytail it had been in and shook it out, flipping her head upside down so that it tumbled out before straightening back up with a luxurious groan.

As she continued to stretch her muscles, he couldn't help but watch the expression of her face. Eyes closed and humming and ahhing, Evangeline made quite the erotic sight as she stretched the kinks out of her limbs, blissfully ignorant of the slightly voyeuristic demon in the room.

Eventually he tore himself away from the room, leaving and deciding to go have a long, warm shower in the privacy of his room. He'd hardened in his pants to the point of it being seriously uncomfortable to remain this way, but that was easily sorted...

* * *

After spending some time with Crowley's...pet? She headed on up to her room to brush her teeth and get ready for the day ahead. The wedding planner had organised for someone to come to the house and do her hair and make up, but first she would need a long bath with her favourite book and some scented oils. _If I get in now I'll have a good hour of pure relaxation- what the hell is that noise?_

She was just passing her room when a deep guttural groan and breathy laugh emitted from beyond the wooden door. _I don't believe it. Is he in there with someone? On the day he's getting married to me? Wow, even by demon standards, that's low. Then again, it's not like we're in a normal monogamous relationship. He can do whatever the Hell he wants._

A rumbling, definitely masculine growl came from beyond and resonated right through her stomach to her core. She staggered away from the door and quickly broke into a run. _That'll teach you not to listen at keyholes._

* * *

It was later. Regret had happened. After turning the corner at a dead sprint, she'd run straight into Beth and Simon, who were both heading down for breakfast. Beth had taken one look at her and distracted Simon, who had wanted to question Evie on her panicked flight. She had however, shot Evie a look over her shoulder that clearly stated _This is NOT over, we talk later._

So from there Evie had taken refuge in one of the spare guest rooms, taking the long bath she'd wanted, scented with peppermint and jasmine oil to relieve fatigue and tension. Her mother had sworn by it. But although she had her copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ right in her hands, she hadn't read a single page. Her mind continued to stray to the problem at hand: Crowley. He irritated her, she loathed him and yet she...

She what? Lusted for him? This was insane. Jason would be so hurt if he knew. He had always stressed how much he valued loyalty in love and how sex was only ever meant to be between two people who loved each other. She'd found it a little strange how insistent he'd been about it, but since she agreed with him it didn't really matter. Considering his family it was no real surprise that he held such an opinion, personally she'd just always thought that when you loved someone, you committed to them totally for as long as that love lasted. The one time she'd met his parents had made even the dinner yesterday with her family and Crowley look tension free...

* * *

***_Flashback_***

_I the Lord of sea and sky,  
I have heard My people cry.  
All who dwell in dark and sin,  
My hand will save._

Evangeline glanced across at Jason, smiling at the focus on his face as he sang the words to the hymn. She was wearing a just above knee length pleated skirt and a fussy white shirt with swirling flower decorations around the hem. Nothing like what she'd usually wear, but Jason had been so worried about today so she'd tried to dress as unprovocatively as possible. He'd never said anything of course, but she knew that his parents' opinion mattered a lot to him so she wanted to make a favourable impression on them. It was only one day after all and she'd hate for him to have to possibly even break away from his parents because of her.

_I who made the stars of night,  
I will make their darkness bright.  
Who will bear My light to them?  
Whom shall I send? _

His mother was standing to her left now, eyes closed as she sang. His parents had invited them up for the Sunday morning church service and a meal afterwards at his childhood home. They hadn't had the chance to talk yet, but his mother seemed nice enough. Her greying hair and eyes with wrinkled laughter lines prompted her to wonder what her own mother would look like if she had lived this long. The ache in her chest from that day had never fully left her and now she felt it returns as strong as it ever was, the hole in her where her parents should be was flayed around the edges and felt like a physical pain. She found herself fighting tears all through the chorus, but picked up as the next verse began, set on keeping her composure until the end of the song. This was the last hymn of the service and then she would be free to leave. But it really didn't help that it was this particular hymn. They had played it at her mother's funeral.

It was soon over and she left the church behind gratefully. She'd never liked them particularly. Her mother had always taught her to believe in God, but sitting on a cold hard bench singing songs had never featured. Her mother was the dancing by the river side under starlight sort of Wiccan and had encouraged her children to speak to God when 'closer to His creation'.

"Did you enjoy the service?" Jason's mother addressed her politely, catching her off guard. It was only a short walk from the church to the house, but it had so far been silent.

"Yes, although it's quite different to what I'm used to." Evangeline replied, opting for the most truthful answer.

"What sort of service are you used to?"

"Well...something more spontaneous perhaps?" Evangeline offered, thinking back to full moon rituals with her mother, singing over herbs as they were cut and reaffirming the boundary spells upon the house's grounds. "My church is quite..progressive."

"One of those new Evangelical places where they have a band instead of an organ sort of thing?" Jason's father cut in, eyes suspicious.

"Yes, amongst other things," she lied, glad that he'd supplied her with an exit.

"Don't approve of the places myself, too informal. Worship is meant to be reverential, not..._hip hop_." he spat the word, thick eyebrows knitting together as if the word was an unforgivable obscenity.

"Evangeline's church isn't like that father, I sometimes go myself."

She glanced at Jason and resisted the urge to scoff. Jason never went to church anymore and he'd never even attempted to get her to go to one. He'd often said that he didn't agree with some of the harsher beliefs of his parents.

"Jason tells us your parents are deceased?"

"That's right. My mother when I was a child, my father in recent years."

"That's terrible child," Mrs Peterson said, patting her arm "You must have been all alone in learning your duties."

_The fuck? I thought she was being sympathetic and-_

"I can always give you some tips on Jason's favourite meals and if the two of you marry-"

"Mrs Peterson, I don't believe in women being the homemaker." Evangeline stated flatly, watching the expressions on the couple's face change drastically.

"What will you do then, after the marriage?" Mr Peterson's face was as thunderous as his tone was blunt.

"I will continue my work as a Paediatrician, then when I have my first child take a year or so off before returning to work."

"That's absurd! Abandoning your child to a nanny so that you can just-"

"What? So I can what? Help sick children? Oh how _selfish _of me," she replied scathingly and Jason groaned. He'd known that this trip was a bad idea.

"Your impudence is astounding, child-"

"I'm a woman, thank you very much."

"Do not interrupt me! I can see Jason has his work cut out getting you under control."

Evangeline froze in her spot and glared at the man. For a summer day, the surroundings were unnaturally chilly as the two faced off. Finally, Evangeline opened her mouth. "I'm not Christian, well, I am slightly. But my mother was a Wiccan. So am I. If I can sit in that goddamn building for an hour and a half respecting your beliefs without comment, then you most certainly can do so for _five minutes_."

Jason's mother gasped in almost comical horror at Evie's proclamation, clutching her son's arm "I think you should take her home darling. We'll contact you, don't worry."

She hugged her son fiercely and latched on to her husband's arm, drawing him away. "Come along dear. We shouldn't be talking with her..."

* * *

She sighed. Okay, so the in-laws were pretty shitty. But she loved Jason; he was nothing like his parents. And he had been so nice that day. After his parents had abruptly left, he'd laughed and held her until she calmed down. Then they'd taken a trip out to the cinema and forgotten the whole thing. He'd said he admired her for standing up to his father like that and she'd positively glowed under his praise.

Tossing the book aside with a thunk, she submerged herself completely in the water and listened to the sound of the water rippling in her ears. She felt horrible now, for even responding to Crowley's touch at all. For her body's reaction. Jason had always sworn blind that she was his soulmate and she'd always believed that he was hers. So why the hell was she getting hot and bothered over a _demon_?

_I can't possibly have Stockholm syndrome. That takes a longer time to set in. Plus, there's nothing to sympathise with Crowley over. I must literally just be being betrayed by my body._

She surfacedand reached for her towel, deciding to just stop thinking about it for now. 51 weeks were ahead of her after all, if she didn't get him to let her go. She couldn't spend all of them reflecting on her own character.

* * *

"Sit still please, miss. I'm nearly done." The makeup artist pleaded and Evan complied. The girl looked about 20 and was clearly nervous. She'd said as much when she told Evan that this was the most expensive appointment she'd had in a while.

She'd tried her hardest to help the girl out, but the brushes were so soft that they tickled. It also didn't help how she was currently sitting her in nothing but a dressing gown, under which was only the ridiculous wedding lingerie that she had been supplied with, complete with the traditional garter. But she guaranteed there was no way in Hell Crowley was taking that off her and flinging it at random male demon guests. She drew the line right there.

"Knock knock," Beth's voice floated through from next door. For getting ready the three women, Lucy, Evie and Beth, had gone to the interconnecting rooms on the first floor of the house.

"Come on in," Evie yelled and the make up artist rocked back on her heels.

"I'm done." She informed her with a smile. "So it's time to get you into the dress and then Charlotte will do your hair."

"Thanks. Can you give us a minute?" Evie asked, seeing from Beth's expression that she wanted to be alone.

The girl nodded sweetly and left the room quietly to stand in the corridor outside. Beth was visibly nervous; wringing her hands and biting her lip as she approached Evie.

"I wanted to talk to you about-"

"I don't want to talk about earlier okay, let's just say I had a shock and-"

"Not that," Beth huffed, looking away out of the window. "I've been waiting to get a moment alone with you ever since you contacted me last week. Damn it all Evie we're family. No call, no note in three years? From you _or _Josh."

"We assumed, after the fight..."Evie trailed off. "I couldn't believe you took his side, is all."

"Simon is my twin. I didn't like what he said, but Evie..." She paused, running her hand through her hair. "Something isn't right with him. He was never like this when we were kids. _Never_. I don't know what happened-"

"He became a dick?" Evan supplied and regretted it when Beth's expression became grieved.

"I can't believe that. He must have a reason. But I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry, since I doubt he'll ever apologise to you. I want us all to be a family again, not split up all over the place. It shouldn't take a demon deal for you to contact me."

Evangeline nodded absently, thinking that Beth was entirely deluded where Simon was concerned. Sometimes, people are just jackasses. No special reason needed.

"I'll get my shoes on, but then you'll need to help me with the dress-"

"Actually..." Beth said, a smile forming on her face at Evangeline's unspoken acceptance of her apology, "You may want to stop right there. Lucy and I each have something for you."

At her words, Lucy burst in, resplendent in her bridesmaid dress. "FINALLY! I thought you would take forever." She shoved a sloppily wrapped box into Evangeline's hand and stepped back with her eyes sparkling. "Open it now, or I'll die."

Rolling her eyes at her cousin's antics, Evie nevertheless did as she was asked and gasped at what was within. A pair of knee high, Doc Martin's high heeled boots lay within. They were white rather than black, so whilst they were perfect for today she couldn't see herself wearing them out that often afterwards.

"I also got you a black pair," Beth murmured. "But don't tell Lucy or she'll be upset that she didn't think of that." She cleared her throat and said loud enough for all of them. "And since those will be your new, it's only fair I give you something to borrow."

She drew her hands out from behind her back and presented her own demon weapon to Evangeline. She'd wanted to take her own knife, but it was too bulky. Beth's on the other hand was perfect. It was a stiletto blade, blue tinted and long handled. It would lay flat against her thigh without being visible beneath her clothes. She smiled and hugged them both, moved by their attempts to make the day as normal as possible.

She breathed out. "Let's do this, shall we?"

* * *

Crowley straightened the cuffs of his suit jacket, scowling. Evangeline either had terrible taste or she just wanted to make him look like a ponce. Either way, there was no possibility of him wearing the bowler hat that had been set out with the suit. He'd thought leaving all the details of the wedding to her would have made her happy at having some element of control. Now he realised, she had just used it as an opportunity to dress him stupidly.

The suit itself was quite plain and a dark grey colour. Better than light grey, he thought, but what was wrong with black? Black meant business. Grey looked cheap, in his opinion. The tie was dark blue and made of silk, with a strange flower like pattern on it. The back of the grey waistcoat that was also part of the suit was the same blue fabric as his tie. _Blue theme. Good God, I'm the king of Hell. People expect RED and BLACK, why did she have to be stubborn and do everything blue? Probably just an attempt to piss me off. Well, she can have her laugh today. I only have to wear this once._

He was searching for suitable cufflinks – platinum or white gold? When someone knocked at his door and entered without bothering to wait for a reply. He recognised Josh, Evangeline's lovely brother from the night before and was instantly on guard. Josh was dressed in a black suit, with a pale cream waistcoat that was also blue backed. So Evangeline had made sure her brother coordinated. How sickeningly sweet.

"I'm giving Evangeline away at the aisle, so I'll be arriving at the church with her and you'll be going on ahead. So I have to give this to you now."

He handed Crowley a small square velvet box before withdrawing his hand to his hip where, Crowley noticed, he had a scabbard. _It's empty...currently. _He deftly flipped open the box to reveal a small ring. The stone was a rectangular lapis lazuli, dark blue with gold flecks running through it.

"Proposing are we? I'm sorry to say I'm already engaged." Josh's face hardened at Crowley's words. _Some people are just too easy to wind up._

"That is our mother's ring. It's the ring you're going to marry Evangeline with, understand? She always loved it, so I collected it from the vault-"

"You have a _vault_?" Crowley queried, already wondering if perhaps this vault contained something in particular.

"We're an old family. We collected things over the years." Josh stated, turning to leave. "It's valuable, but if you steal it you'll be struck down."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue. "It's standard to curse anything of great importance so that if it is stolen the thief meets an interesting end."

"Interesting...?"

"They usually have all the moisture sucked from their bodies, causing them to collapse inwards on themselves and shrivel up."

Josh placed his hand on the doorhandle and stopped. "Her favourite flowers are irises and she prefers dark chocolate, don't _ever_ give her white chocolate or she'll throw it back in your face. Treat her well and-"

"You'll refrain from killing me?"

"No, she will."

* * *

At 1 PM, Evangeline, her brother and her bridesmaids all arrived at the Church that had been organised for the occasion. She felt like there was an electric current running through her as she realised that after this moment she would be the queen of Hell. Okay, so the downside was that she would be married to Crowley and it was Hell, but she'd take the title of queen thank you _very_ much.

Lucy and Beth made sure the dress' train was arranged properly before taking their places in front of Evangeline. Lucy gave her a winning smile and a wink.

"Just think about what beautiful children you'll have," she said with false sweetness and Evangeline resisted the urge to smack her on the head with her bouquet.

"Okay Evie. Showtime." Josh gripped her hand tightly in reassurance before resting it in the crook of his elbow.

"I feel sick." And she did. She really did. She was marrying a _monster_.

"Save it for Crowley, don't do it over me."

Her responding laugh was more than slightly hysterical.

* * *

Crowley shifted around from foot to foot, tired of being kept waiting. Evie was meant to arrive half an hour ago. _Evie...Her family all call her that, but she insisted on the other women at the meeting calling her Evan. I wonder which she prefers? I've never attempted to call her by either since I find both nauseating in different ways. Evie for sounding childish and Evan because to him it inspired the image of a male American athlete. Why the difference in names?_

The unmistakable sound of Wagner's _Bridal Chorus_ filtered through the air and he turned to have a good look at his bride.

She wasn't wearing a veil, for which he was grateful. He'd always found it ludicrous to say the least to have a grown woman almost parcelled up in that gauzy fabric as if she were a gift that he was meant to unveil and gasp at in surprise. He knew what she looked like underneath, so what was the point in her shoving a piece of cloth over her face? It wasn't hide and seek for Christ's sake.

The dress looked simple, strapless and slender at the waist before sloping outwards gentle. None of that fishtail or meringue nonsense. A strip of deep blue with a white flower pattern outlined the bust. In this style of dress he could clearly see just how tiny she was, not just in stature but also in the slender waist, rounded hips and a delicate clavicle leading up to an invitingly lithe neck. _Who'd have known she was hiding _that_ body under those baggy shirts, _he thought, before catching sight of something unusual. Her shoes, when they peeked out ahead of the dress every now and then, looked slightly strange. It didn't really matter. He returned to looking at her face, which was much more interesting. She was wearing make up that flattered her face but made her look nothing like herself. Whoever had put it on her had decided to make her look feminine, lightening her face with...well, whatever they used. She was wearing soft pink lipstick, he saw with amusement. Whoever had put it on was good, he'd admit that much. He could almost imagine her to be the sort of woman who spent the day organising flowers and making sure her house was in order, before picking the children up from school and greeted her husband with a kiss when he got home from work.

At that moment, Evangeline half tripped over her own feet and swore explosively in the silent church, saved from kissing the carpet only by her brother's guiding arm.

"There was I thinking someone replaced you with a Stepford wife while I was out." He quipped as she straightened her dress and flicked her hair back from where the long curls had fallen into her face.

"Funny. There was I thinking you might have grown a sense of humour."

"Delightful isn't she?" He asked the priest, throwing his eyes over his shoulder while he took Evie's hand and turned around, keeping firm hold of it. The old man looked absolutely scandalised by the bride.

"Shall we begin?"

"'Aiiight let's do this." She clicked her neck to one side and shook her shoulder back like she was stepping into a fighting ring.

The priest's eyes widened in semi disbelief at her attitude, but he cleared his throat and valiantly soldiered through the first part of the ceremony, burying his nose into the book from which he read. Crowley didn't bother listening. Weddings were all the same. Blah blah eternal love blah blah * insert vows here * on with the ring, sign the certificate and congratulations. The back of Evie's dress was much more interesting. The strip of blue outlining the bust continued around to her back before skimming downwards and widening out to form the border of the dress' train. The two parts were held together by a ribbon that criss crossed across the gap before ending in a neat bow. _It would be so easy to just undo that. I could rip right through it and the dress would peel right off... _Evangeline sighed, tilted her head down onto one shoulder in boredom. _It would be so easy._

"_You were late." _He whispered out of the side of his mouth and Evangeline's head jerked in response, letting him know she'd heard. She waited a second as the priest turned away and quickly replied.

"_I was getting dressed completely. Though I see you haven't done the same."_

"_That hat is an abomination."_

"_So is your face darling, I thought your clothes should match." _Her smile was saccharine as she brought her shoulder up so her chin rested on it as if she adored him. For extra effect she clasped her hands together and fluttered her eyelashes. He was about to make an abrasive reply when the priest interjected.

"And now for the vows. I'm told that you've both written individual vows?" The priest beamed, since this was always a welcome circumstance. It meant less work for him.

_...FUCK! _His mind roared, mentally shredding his hair out. He had most certainly not seen that one coming. Then again, he conceded, it wasn't an issue since the ceremony was private, with only Evangeline, her family and the priest there. So he could say what he liked.

"Perhaps my husband would like-"

"I'll go first." He cut her off, putting the most delightful scowl on her face. She'd clearly wanted to make him sweat by going first and giving him time to worry. Well sorry sweetheart, nice try but no cigar. He had this.

"I, Crowley McLeod, do take thee Evangeline Stratton-"

"Clairmont" She hissed through gritted teeth

"Whatever. To be my lawfully- actually wait no that's not true, the legality is a bit of a minefield but I'm pretty good at tap dancing on it. You are going to be my wife. This is undisputed. I take you to be my constant adversary, my undermining, backstabbing source of amusement and the epitome of all I despise. I do this in the presence of God, allegedly, and your family, who I find only marginally less disturbing than your good self, and pledge to be your sole companion through the time we have together. I also promise to laugh _at _you and weep for your complete lack of intelligence, though I do cherish the contrast you bring to my life as someone utterly devoid of imagination and shall do so for the next...51 weeks."

"I'm sorry, is this one of those ahem, BDSM things? Where you insult each other?" The priest asked, pronouncing each letter with the pinpoint care of someone speaking to a rabid dog. "Because I'm not sure if I-"

Evangeline held up a finger pointed straight up to silence the man in his tracks. "It's most certainly not. Though I do wonder how _you_ knew about it. Now my darling is going to put the damn ring on my finger so I can say _my _vows."

It was funny really, how she didn't even lower her death glare currently directed at Crowley's face to look at the ring he thrust on her finger.

"Wonderful. Now they say a picture paints a thousand words. Personally, I think actions paint that picture with _colours._" She raised her hand and kissed the ring, keeping her azure eyes on his own and trapping him there, his brain rapidly clicking through ideas on what she was up to.

Just as his intuition raised the warning flag, her fist connected with his mouth, the hard stone of the ring slicing into his bottom lip mercilessly. He staggered back a step from the force, amazed at the power of the hit. _Small and mighty! _Popped into his head, a slogan from some brand or other.

Someone whooped and he wiped the drop of blood away with a finger, the cut resealing. Evangeline was surrounded by a cluster of her family and was now staring down at the ring while they all congratulated her, slapping her on the back or hugging her and laughing, all of them laughing. She looked up abruptly, face contorted in anger.

"YOU COULD HAVE BROKEN THE RING!"

He raised an eyebrow, open mouth and looking around a second, the tirade slowed by faint disbelief "I could have- _I COULD HAVE? YOU PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE._"

"YOU? YOU INSULTED MY FAMILY!"

"_YOU INSULTED MY FACE!"_

"Could we not just-"

"My wife and I are having a little heart to heart, a tête à tête, a communion if you will." Crowley explained to the priest with faked patience "So hows about YOU SHUT UP!" The man's mouth opened and shut before he closed his Bible, holding it in front of himself like a shield.

"I'll just.. get the register."

He scurried off behind a door and there was the heavy sound of a bolt drawing across. Evangeline scoffed and placed her hands on her hips.

"Nice one Crowley. I was half expecting you to start beating your chest and snarl. Put your eyes away will you, **culus.**"

He realised with a start that during the argument his demon eyes had come in to play. Nobody had hit him in about two centuries. He'd either been too quick or they'd been too terrified.

"I'm pretty sure that priest is currently praying and looking up exorcisms, so let's make this snappy." The blonde bridesmaid, Beth, said in a businesslike tone. She nodded to her brother and Josh, who approached the door as she drew out a small vial that had seemingly been stashed in her bra.

"Thank God I brought it. Break it down, quick as you can and I'll throw it in his face."

The trio set to work, the men hammering into the door. Chris sighed and wandered over to Evangeline, clasping her hand in his.

"For the record, I think everything looks stunning. Good choice of venue and flowers."

"Isn't it just?" Evie turned, squeezing his hand "I just love iris flowers, but they're a bit strange for a wedding bouquet. The train of the dress is just amazing though isn't it? Beautiful shade of blue. I would have maybe tried red with gold but-"

"So last season, overdone." He waved his hand in a way that Crowley thought was incredibly stereotypical for a gay man, yet there seemed to be no irony in it.

"That's EXACTLY what I thought!" Evie squealed, "Gold is so _tacky_ as well, don't you think? Everyone is wearing fake gold these days, makes the real stuff look cheap somehow."

"White gold is good." Lucy chipped in, watching the scene unfolding with the door as it refused to give way. "Looks like silver but it doesn't tarnish."

"Mmm." The pair agreed with her and with a snap the wood gave way, ending the mundane conversation that had sprung up. Immediately Chris let go of Evie and backed off as the priest came streaking through the gap like a bolt of lightning, wielding a very heavy looking tome.

"BACK! BACK!" Displaying commendable agility for a man his age, he dodged Josh and headed for the door, sending Beth staggering with a blow to her side from the book.

"Shit, catch him, Evie," Beth wheezed, clutching her side.

Evie's arms flailed as she did a swift about turn and hiked up her dress to hobble on high heels after the 80 year old, who was (shamefully) giving her the slip. With a sigh Crowley transported himself to the door, giving the old man a severely unimpressed look.

"We just want our certificate and we'll be gone."

"Never! I won't be tricked into the pit by a shade of Hell and his Incubus!" Piety was giving the man courage he'd never known he had.

"How DARE you! Incubi are male!" Evangeline screeched, stomping one of her impressive boots and letting her dress fall back down to cover them.

"**In nomine patris, et filii et spiritus sancti-" **The man began, reaching for the small fount next to the door that held holy water.

"Oh no you don't," Crowley half snarled, grabbing the priest's shoulder, demonic strength giving the man no option but to allow himself to be dragged back to the altar. "Now. Where do we sign the damn register."

"I could never-"

"You're speaking to the king of Hell." Evangeline interrupted, tired of the whole charade. "Now, if you don't let us marry, then another priest certainly will. So I suggest you take the offer he's selling you."

As the old man turned watery eyes on her in curiosity, Crowley also shot her a querying look over the man's shoulder.

"Oh you weren't told? Well, you see, Hell isn't a very profitable place." Crowley covered his derogatory snort with a cough. "And so it's been quite difficult to find a church we could afford but we found this place. We were going to show our appreciation for you marrying us by granting you something you desire."

"A filthy deal for my soul-"

"Payment for our marriage. No souls involved. We've already seen your name on the register for Heaven we couldn't touch it." By now Crowley had one eyebrow raised behind the man's back as if to say _oh really? Expert in the running of Hell now are we?_

"I can guarantee her offer," Crowley input smoothly, his most charming smile falling into place. "You're going to Heaven anyway, so why not take the perks of a mortal life?"

"Well, I suppose...Jesus did say love has no boundaries."

"Exactly father, we're just so in love." Crowley nodded slightly, an earnest smile plastered to his face.

_Christ on a bike and I thought I was a decent liar. The man's like a smoothly oiled machine. He knows exactly how to word things, how to get under someone's skin..._Evangeline thought as the priest led them over to the church vestry and after they'd both signed the document and Josh and Chris had been their two witnesses, Crowley spent a moment alone with the man before exiting the church.

He stared a moment at their mode of transport before shaking his head in disbelief. Two open topped horse drawn carriages were waiting outside. Evangeline was already waiting for him in the front one, blue and white bouquet resting on her lap as she tried to keep her long hair out of her face. Her family were sitting in the second carriage which was much larger.

"I see why you were late. Transport is a bit outdated."

"Says the centuries-old demon. I found your hat." She dunked it on his head with a smile and he ripped it off with a scornful noise.

"Does not mean I will be wearing it any time soon."

The carriage drew away from the church to the sound of much whooping from the carriage behind. There was a bottle of champagne on board after all. Speaking of which...

"Care for a glass?" She offered, reaching down to the inbuilt ice bucket in front of their feet and drawing out a bottle and two glasses.

"Did you arrange this too? I didn't have you down as the sort who takes care of all the little details," he mocked, accepting the glass as she fought with the cork. "Here let me do that. You'll only open it wrong and waste good liquor on bubbles."

"Au contraire mon amour, I am a wizard with champagne. Besides, I'd be afraid of you purposefully aiming the cork at a passing car and deliberately getting it wrong."

"Darling, even Evil takes a day off sometimes." He wiggled his fingers but she still refused to hand over the bottle, grasping the neck firmly and popping the cork successfully without any spillage.

"Oh ye of little faith." She derided, pouring him a large glass and her half of one. He smirked at her smaller helping and offered;

"Not hopping on another battlecruiser?" _Testing my slang Crowley dear? _She thought in amusement.

"Nah, I'll save it for your little party tonight. Though maybe I'll just sneak off to the nuclear for a Nelson." She raised her glass and took a long slow sip for effect as he froze beside her.

"I never told you about that. It was meant to be-"

"A delightful surprise for the whole family. Yep. Well, you can either let us all go out elsewhere, or we'll see how far I can shove my iron knife up your bloody Jacksie. I assure you, you would not like that game. I'm an experienced player since many of your subjects were not so good at taking suggestions."

"You _will_ be at the reception and you _will _be well behaved since every demon in hell, well, most of them and all the monsters out there, think that you are my real wife and part of the conditions of the contract is they continue to believe that."

"They think I agreed to this? But you-"

"Certain crossroads demons who had been having poor results bringing in souls were asked to bring me a large group of women and suddenly outlived their usefullness to the underworld."

"Meaning you killed them."

"Not just a pretty arse are you?"

"...Do you mean face?"

"No."

Evangeline opened her mouth with a snarky comment but the wind blew a strand of her hair into her mouth, so what had been a diamond tipped cutting remark became a spluttered choke. Crowley relaxed in his seat, wind in his face and closed his eyes. _Hell with this._

She snatched the forlorn looking bowler hat from off the floor and placed it onto her head, tucking her hair back behind her ear so that the hat stopped it flicking in her face on every slight gust of breeze. She shoved Crowley to the side a little so that she could relax.

"You're taking up all the room with your vessel's flabby self."

"You truly are just crushing my self esteem here Evangeline. How do you think up such witty insults?" She'd never heard someone who could sound at once so falsely sincere and so sarcastic.

"Oh I hold back dear. I know you haven't the wit to understand most of _my _stockpile of insults." Let Crowley keep his sarcasm. She was the queen of honey coated insults.

* * *

When they got back to the house, Crowley was disgruntled to realise that in the two hours before the first guests arrived he was expected to spend most of it posing for wedding photos. A necessary part of the deception, since they'd be placed straight onto a computer and shown on a screen at one side of the hall they were holding the party in. The same ballroom that he'd first seen Evangeline in.

The wedding planner had twittered excitedly when they had arrived back and his human staff (and the demon guards) threw confetti in the air. That he certainly hadn't expected. A camera snapped away and he kept his face in a resolute half smile. He couldn't, after all appear to be in love with Evangeline or that would be perceived as weakness. It was only necessary that they believe she was infatuated with him, not the other way.

The planner had fawned over Evangeline's 'borrowing' of his hat and insisted several pictures of them with her poised half through taking it off his head while he smiled at her because it was 'romantic'. Then there had been the group photos, the most awkward of which was the male one where he stood in the middle of a group of males who were all much taller than him. Just one look at their expressions told him that they were mentally sharpening up the carving knife ready to slit his throat. He'd had to wait for the final photo as the pictures of Evangeline and her bridesmaids were taken. This picture was much more comfortable and informal as Evie slung her arms around her cousins and they leaned in to rest on her shoulder, all of them smiling.

For the final pictures of the pair alone, Crowley made sure to keep a possessive hold on Evangeline's waist, mouth watering at the sight of her creamy skin that was on show. As the camera man lined up the shot, Crowley looked down at her from his position standing right behind her and placed his left hand just below her left shoulder, wrapping his right arm completely around her and drawing her back flush against him. She shivered and tilted her head back to look at him with clear arousal rising in her eyes, the deep colour looking to him like Murano glass because of the different shifting colour tones. He inclined his head downward, not an inch from her lips and she blushed lightly and glanced away, tugging self consciously at her bottom lip with her teeth, making it swell as the blood flow momentarily ceased then returned more forcibly. He let out a soft hum of appreciation at the sight of the soft pink flesh that was so tantalisingly close-

A snap brought him out of his thoughts as the man took a picture, grinning at them. "Excellent! I couldn't resist taking that shot. The chemistry was just-"

Evangeline broke away with a wide eyed smile, staring at the ground. "Thank you. That should be enough I think."

She turned and fled, leaving Crowley to wrap up any loose ends. He felt smug though, to see how easily he affected her. _I'll savour this tension, so that when she does give in it will be all the sweeter. _He thought to himself, wandering at a leisurely pace into the house with his hands in his pockets.

* * *

She desperately wanted to splash some water on her face, but couldn't because of the makeup. She wanted to scream but someone would hear. She wanted to sink to the floor but the damn dress would get crumpled.

_How did I ever get in this mess? Didn't I retire? Didn't I do my best to follow my father's wishes? Why is God such an arse? Why have circumstances brought me back into this world that I tried so hard to leave behind._

_***Flashback***_

Evangeline clutched her father's hand as he lay dying from an infected wound. There had been no way that she could take him to a hospital, the wound too large and the teeth marks different to any normal animal. At least with werewolves or shapeshifters you could claim it was a dog attack. Wyvern bites however were difficult to explain away since they often bit straight to the bone and their serrated teeth leave unusual marks. She'd drawn out the poison in the wound, cleaned, stitched and bandaged it and thought it would be fine.

He'd been his usual self all the way back from Wales to London, changing the bandages himself. A week after the hunt he'd collapsed and she'd found that the skin around the wound was swollen and red. The bite itself made her gag; it was festering and smelt abominable. Most worrying was the blackness spreading up his arm in either direction from the bite, turning his skin a bruised purple.

She'd pumped him full of antibiotics after that and the swelling had reduced. Regularly changing the bandages had reduced the yellow pus that wept from the area, but the purple beneath his skin had spread more. She began to fear more and more that the poison had taken hold after all.

It took him a whole month to pass away, during which time she never left him for more than fifteen minutes a day to make herself food or have a hurried shower and change her clothes. She slept in a chair by his bedside, ate in that same chair. When he first got sicker she'd moved him from the house in London to the family house in Cornwall for protection. As it became clearer that he was not going to get better, members of the family began to converge on the house to say goodbye. Josh moved in and tried to get her to take shifts with him so that her father would never be alone, but Evie would always refuse. The guest rooms filled up as Lucy and her parents came to stay, then Beth and Simon dropped a case in Bulgaria to come home. Roger Clairmont, despite being bedridden by then, remained jovial and greeted each of them with a smile, or just sat there reading.

It came as a hard blow, the day her father finally passed away. She woke after a few hours sleeping to find him also awake, smiling at her.

"I think today's the day Evie. Going on up to the spirit in the sky." He joked and she noticed that his lips were tinged lilac now too.

"Don't say that Dad, you're going to be fine."

"Spare an old man from lies Evie, I know I'm all washed up. So listen to me."

She sat forward, taking his hand once again as had been her habit this past month. Except this time he didn't have the strength to grip back.

"I need you to take care of everyone when I'm gone. Your brother and your cousins. That goes without saying. Keep two eyes on Simon as well. But as for the matter of inheritance..."

"Dad, you don't have to-"

"When your mother died, as her partner I took over as Keeper until you were of age. I asked you when you turned 16 if you were ready and you said no and I never pushed it. Well now I _have_ to give you the book, Evie. Protect it against everyone. Even other hunters. Not all of them are like your mother's family." He coughed and licked his lips before continuing. "But that's enough business for now. Call your brother. I want to talk to both my children as their father, not their boss before I die."

She did as he asked, running down the hallway and pounding on Josh's door. He ripped it open, standing there bare chested and half asleep. His face instantly cleared as he saw her expression and he followed her back to the end room where their father lay.

"Hey Dad." Josh sat on the edge of the bed to one side of their father whilst Evangeline climbed back into her chair on the other side.

"Like I just said to Evangeline, I'm past my use by date now. 47 is a good age for a hunter, so I'm not complaining. So I just want you both to know how very much I love you."

Evangeline's eyes were watering as she tried to hold back tears. Her father had never actually said those words to them. He was of a gruff sort of nature, a traditional man who didn't believe in showing off his feelings. His love had always been shown through a smile and nod when she completed her first successful hunt, or a brief hug when she came over to visit. Between all the blood and the fighting they'd just never had the chance to talk seriously. She'd always known that he loved them both, but to hear him finally say it only served to drive home the fact that he was leaving.

"Ne pleure pas pour moi ange, je vais voir ta maman." He stroked his thumb erratically over the back of her palm, speaking in his mother tongue, which had always calmed her.

"Je suis désolé pour pleurer papa. Il est juste que je vais te manquer avant que nous retrouverons."

"Moi aussi." Josh added, his face drawn into a frown.

Roger chuckled and shifted slightly, the effort making him gasp for breath "There is one more thing that must be said and you shall not like it. I want you to give up hunting, both of you."

"Père! Non, je refuse. La chasse est dans mon sang. Votre famille et la famille de ma mère sont chasseurs. Il est ma vocation."

"Silence maintenant mon ange. Tu dois me promettre qu'on ne chasse plus. Je veux vous de se concentrer sur la recherche d'un mari qui vous aime et une vie exempte de souffrance." He stopped and swapped back to English with a sigh. "One of my greatest regrets is that I never married your mother, at least not legally, until a month before she died. I had two wonderful children with her though and it worries me that you will both be alone in a dangerous life until one day something strikes you down."

"That won't happen dad, there is no need-"

"You look like your mother you know. So very much. Especially when you're being stubborn. Promise me you will both give up active hunting. I do not mind you still helping your family with research and planning. But swear to me you will never go after another creature or demon."

"I swear." Evangeline said, followed by her brother.

"Now Josh, please go a moment so I can..So Evie and I-"

"I know Dad. I love you."

Josh leant forward and half hugged his father, who returned it as much as he could with his weakening limbs.

Once he had left, Roger turned to look at Evie "So now I must tell you where the book is, n'est pas?"

~.~

As Evie walked heavy footed down the stairs to tell her brother that their father had just drawn his last breath, Simon came bounding up them.

"IS THIS TRUE?" He accused hotly, despite Beth pulling at his arm to try and take him away. "You are _RETIRING_? Yet you are the new Keeper?"

"Simon, stop it her dad has just-"

"You little traitor. How could you take the book, knowing you were leaving the family?"

"I'm not leaving the family. You can't leave what is in your blood." She replied hollowly, wishing he would shut up so she could just go downstairs to Josh.

"Who says the family won't leave _you? _Why would we care if a pampered daddy's girl and a faggot want to leave."

Her fist hit his face before she'd even realised it had left her side. "How dare you? Why would you call my brother-"

"Don't tell me you didn't know about his lifestyle." Simon challenged, stepping up so he was on the same step as her and able to glare down. "His whole aura stinks of-"

She hit him again, but this time she just didn't stop, forcing him to retreat down the stairs and into the lower hallway, beating him the whole way. Beth was shouting at them both to stop, but it went unheard as Simon retaliated in kind, catching her along the jaw so that her neck jerked to one side. Eventually they were pulled apart, Evangeline giving in easier than Simon, who continued to fight the hold that Lucy's father had on him.

"Filthy! Both of you! Soft willed and ready to give up on what you were born for at the slightest thing-"

"MY FATHER IS DEAD!" She roared, her voice cracking at the sheer force and volume behind the words. "DO YOU NOT GET THAT? THEN AGAIN, YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY KNOW WHAT LOVE IS, BEING THE PSYCHOPATH THAT YOU ARE."

"If love is what your brother claims to be doing with that stupid estate agent, then I'm GLAD!" Simon hissed through his teeth, straining to be free.

"You are a narrow minded self centred prick." Evangeline stated, stepping back to where her brother stood, watching the scene in silence. "I couldn't care less about my brother's choice of partner so long as he's happy. But you don't like it when other people are happy do you Simon? Because you are NEVER happy, trapped in that hateful little bubble you call a life. Now get out of my house."

His eyes slid to hers and she nodded "You heard me. As Keeper and head of the family, this house is _mine_. Now get out and don't you ever come back until you've corrected the error of your thinking."

"Evie, isn't that a little harsh? We're all upset because of your dad." Beth implored, seeing how pale Simon was.

"That is not an excuse and it does not make what he said right. Ever."

"He didn't-"

"Mean it? Then why did he say it?" Evie shot back darkly. "If you seriously see nothing wrong with what he just did, then you can leave with him. Your choice Beth."

Five minutes later after packing their bags, Beth and Simon left together. Simon didn't look back, but Beth paused forlornly in the doorway as if about to say something.

"I'm sorry for your loss." She finally said, though it was clearly not what she had been about to say.

As Beth closed the door and the car pulled out of the drive, Evie knew that the spells of protection and concealment on the house would already be wiping the location of the house from Beth and Simon's memories until such a time as Evie trusted them again. It was an ancient spell, normally used only to keep anyone who stumbled across the house by accident from remembering where exactly it was. She'd never in her wildest dreams thought it would one day be used on members of their own family.

* * *

A knock on the bathroom door brought Evie out of her reminiscing. _Probably Crowley or Lucy telling me my honoured guests are arriving._ She checked her reflection, thinking wryly that in the three years since that whole incident, everything had changed. She'd changed her second name from Stratton to Clairmont to shake off any demons from her brief hunting days. She'd met Jason, she'd finished her practise years as a junior doctor and was now specialised in paediatrics. In five years or so she'd be a consultant. Lucy's mother and father had 'died', which meant they'd actually just faked their death for the benefit of anything fanged that might be holding a grudge and moved to Greece to retire. They didn't say it, but Roger's death had been a reminder that they weren't getting any younger either. She'd visited their mountain place once or twice with Lucy in the summer and they were always welcoming.

It was Crowley at the door after all.

"Most people have arrived by now. So remember. We're in love. Which means no smart remarks or stabbing the guests."

"Smart remarks? There was me thinking that you thought my comebacks were weak. Or were you just lying when you said you didn't like them?"

She winked and walked out of the room, sliding her arm through his and pressing against his side. _Dinner party with demons. Not your everyday sort of occurrence._

_~.~_

"Evie, this is Duke Baal. He is in charge of all tactical operations, makes sure any rogues get rounded up, that sort of thing."

"I am charmed to meet your lady wife, Crowley." The demon, in the form of a large man with eastern European features, spoke with a deep Romanian accent. "I shall have to save a dance for her later."

"Certainly, I'm sure she'd love that." _No I wouldn't you prick, _she thought, smiling blandly at Crowley, who very well knew that she'd want nothing less. "In the meantime I'm afraid we have to greet everyone, I'll come back later so we can discuss the Loyalists issue."

Crowley led her away, arm tight as a vice around her waist. Since coming down the stairs all they'd done was meet demon after demon. Here and there throughout the room however were a few other brands of horror. Speaking of which...

"And this is the Greek Emissary, she's come a long way to be here. Her name-"

"Stheno, right?" Evangeline held out a hand which the gorgon took carefully in one of her own gloved hands. "I've heard a lot."

"Very impressssive. How did you know I wasss not my other sister Euryale?"

"The stories say you're thin with red snakes for hair."

"Ssso ssspecific hmm? Interesting. Mossst people would avoid my gaze child." _Okay, so she hisses her 's' sounds. Creepy much?_

"Yes, why are you wearing sunglasses inside? Wasn't it only Medusa who could turn people into stone with her gaze?"

"Yes! Oh Zeus NOBODY else seems to know that. I wear ze glassesss or elssse people riot and scream about how I am trying to kill them with my stone gaze. Ah, I am glad some people read the myths properly."

"My pleasure. Incidentally, how are things in Greece? Has the situation with the Lamia overpopulation sorted itself?"

"Yess, we killed sufficient quantities of them. Hunter humans took care of the rest."

"Well, I'd love to come back later and hear some more about Greece in the past."

"I would enjoy that, Mrs Stratton. I have heard of your cousin's work in our country. A noble pursuit, though I care little for the creatures myself."

"Lucy's just very into taking care of things. Do help yourself to the buffet. Crowley informs me there's dictator on the table."

They drifted on, Evangeline inwardly musing her last words. _Dictator on the table. Since when did it become normal for me to talk about people as a dinner course?_

"Why are those vampires giving you such death glares?" She asked Crowley quietly and he chuckled.

"I kept their Alpha prisoner for a while with the intent of torturing him."

"..And then you invited them over for tea and biscuits like an ordinary psychopath?"

"Of course. You can't ever throw away a possible ally. Besides, I'm King of Hell. They'll come around to my side or be brought around by force."

Either way, she was glad when Crowley left her alone to go and talk to the vampires. They were eyeing her a little _too _enthusiastically for her liking. Left alone and with nothing to do, she knew she had to either A) go talk to somebody or B) go to the buffet table and do that thing where you pretend to be occupied so nobody knows you're currently a complete loner. Since the buffet table was catered towards demons, pagan gods and monsters, there was no way she was heading over there. So, it was time to pick a monster and acquaint herself. Her family had gone out to eat before coming here, since Crowley had completely neglected to get any food suitable for humans.

Looking through the crowd, she finally ended up meeting eyes that were staring at her own face. He was a handsome, friendly looking guy of around forty and something about him made her blood curdle in her veins. He's smiling and his teeth _look_ normal and his eyes are lit up with the smile like it's genuine. But underneath that friendly smile is a shark's smile. It's not even Crowley's type of shark smile which says 'I'm going to screw with you'. This smile says 'I could screw with you...but I'd prefer to just eat you'. _What is this guy? He is not a demon. No fangs or flashy eyes so not shapeshifter, werewolf or vampire. He could be a fae, but I get the feeling he's much more powerful. A dragon maybe?_

Either way, she'd been staring at him too long to just look away and not appear completely rude. Besides, she was curious and there was no way she was letting him think she was scared to approach him. So she strode over, confidence growing with every sure footed step. _These boots were made for walking, _she sang in her head, grinning at him. He returned it, turning slightly to look down at her. There were two others with him, standing a respectful distance back. One was female and looked to be Chinese, whilst the other was male and dressed very casually in a denim jacket over a khaki coloured shirt. Both of the other two looked at her with equal indifference before looking back at the buffet table with scary intensity.

"Hungry?" She said, by way of opening. "You look just about ready to eat everyone in the room."

"Don't tempt me, Mrs...?" The blonde, well dressed one said.

"Stratton. Evangeline Stratton. You are?"

"Richard Roman, but please, call me Dick."

"Okay Dick. So the question on my lips is what the Hell are you?" _And what kinda dumbass wants to be called Dick?_

"Leviathan. Leader, specifically."

"Bully for you." She said, pouring fake enthusiasm in. Crowley had talked about the Leviathans a little the other day when they went out for dinner. Something about them escaping from Purgatory because of a 'fine feathered fuckwit'. Which she took to mean angel.

"You don't think it much of an achievement?" He smiled frostily "To be the leader of the oldest race on Earth?"

"Your race spent the last few thousand years twiddling your thumbs in Purgatory. You're not exactly ranking as one of the most fast moving of dooms."

"We don't have to rush things, we're immortal. Nothing can kill us, not even time."

"Actually Death could. Or God. Besides which, immortality doesn't mean you can't be contained."

"So you think you and your kind could seriously defeat us? A pathetic slab of meat with the brains of the average gingerbread man? There are too many of us and too few of you. And there's only going to get fewer."

"Well Hell, I've been looking for a hobby and I like a challenge."

"Challenge?" He laughed scornfully, face smug "More like Mission Impossible."

"Were you proud of that film reference? Because I'm sorry to break it to you honey, but the guy succeeds at the end." Dick's face darkened into a glare, just as Crowley finally arrived.

"Ah, Mr Roman."

"Dick."

"-Dick" Crowley continued smoothly. "I hope my wife has been keeping you entertained."

"She's been threatening my imminent demise, so yes I am very amused. Why was I invited tonight, Crowley?"

Crowley looked nervous, she realised with a jolt. Well isn't that a fine thing?

"I thought it time that we finally met in person, seeing as I'm king of Hell and you are the leader of the oldest creatures known in history. But let's cut to the chase shall we? We should be friends, you and I. Business partners, if you will."

Dick inclined his head and raised one eyebrow "Why should we be?"

"Because you're both Dicks?" Evangeline suggested, ignoring Crowley's hand falling on her arm in warning. "One in name and the other in nature?" She smiled sweetly at her 'husband' who was clenching his teeth together. In rage.

"I like people who speak their mind." Roman commented, folding one hand over the other. "It shortens the time before I get to eat them, less foreplay." He smiled charmingly and Evangeline fell silent, survival instincts finally making themselves heard.

"I opened the door to purgatory," Crowley said slowly, testing the water "I brought you here-"

"To steal every last soul, you and that angel friend of yours. Don't roofie me and call it romance."

"I think you've got me wrong." _Nope Crowley, he hit the damn nail on the head. That much is obvious from your face._

Dick shifted his stance, looking the other man clearly in the eyes and letting the smile slip from his features "Now it's your turn to listen. I'd sooner swim through hot garbage than shake the hand of a bottom-feeding mutation like you. You demons are ugly, lazy, gold-digging whores. You're less than humans and they're not good for much but to dip deep in garlic sauce. I'd never work with you, Crowley. In fact, if I wasn't busy with other things I might actually wipe your kind and all the other kinds of twisted perversions that you've invited to this party from the face of the universe. And you deserve it. Are we clear?"

Silence filled the room for a second before all the other guests quickly went back to their discussions, although anger sparked in many eyes and the talk was considerably more heated than before.

Evangeline's first thought that flashed through her mind was _Oh dammmmn that man is good. Crowley's face is priceless. _Her second one was _Currently, I'm meant to be acting like a good wife and a good wife would at least be offended by Dick's words. _Three; E_ven the greatest politician can only survive so much public humiliation before he's history and a post – Crowley world means a post – existence me._

So that was why, as Crowley opened his mouth to back out, Evangeline opened hers to throw herself into the fight. "Sorry Dick, but I got a question. How many of you are there? Not Specifically. Just a ballpark figure. Come on, a thousand? Less?"

"Lets say between 750 and 1000, yes." He replied, the ever present smile never fading.

"And you can't have little baby leviathans can you? I hope not, the thought is disturbing."

"No, we do not. God made only a certain amount of us, since we were immortal. Overcrowding would be immense."

"I figured that. So, 600 of you against the world-"

"I said between 750-"

"You lied, don't interrupt me. So, 600 at a generous estimate. Now lets do Math. 7 billion humans knocking around. Most of them useless, but there's at least two thousand hunters out there. Say you do manage to take over...hmm, America? That's doable, with that amount of people. Do you seriously think the other 6 and a half billion people are just going to sit back and chill? I mean, immortal or no, If you take over America and pose a serious threat to everyone else the first thing they're going to do is drop a bomb on your head, which I would just _love _to see you try and come back from."

"Oh, I wouldn't underestimate my plans. It's ever so easy to make people docile."

There was a commotion near the door that caused them both to look around. Lucy was entering the room and cutting through the crowd to where they stood, carrying a carton of what was hopefully a pile of greasy goodness.

"I brought you food!" Lucy called, oblivious to the assorted creatures around her and the tense atmosphere in the room.

"Didn't you just?" Dick murmured, eyeing Lucy hungrily.

Evangeline ignored his remark for now in favour of seeing what Lucy had brought. Pasta? It was a strange greenish colour with what looked like nuts.

"I found this amazing vegan take out place-" Evangeline groaned at her words.

"Nooooo, please no. Lucy, I _NEED _meat not nuts. I am not a squirrel. I am a filthy carnivore. Why are you giving me-"

"Vegan?" Dick interjected, frowning. "I don't understand, is that a country? A nationality?"

"It's a state of mind." Evangeline told him, sourly stabbing at the pasta with a plastic fork "Where a person refuses to eat meat. Or anything from an animal. So no eggs, milk and so on."

"Why would they do that?" To her surprise he sounded genuinely horrified. "What sort of- Is it an illness of the mind? A phobia?"

"It's the right thing to do!" Lucy objected hotly, tucking her hair behind her ear and folding her arms "Animals are abused all over the world needlessly, we do not need to eat them to survive-"

"But they taste good?"

"If your mother tasted good, would you eat _her_?"

"Yes."

Evangeline let it go on for a few minutes while she ate, only half listening as Lucy passionately explained the morality behind not eating meat, only catching snippets. "Can you imagine the trauma inflicted on the poor calf? Taking it's mother away for slaughter...Honey is bee exploitation!...No, not many people are vegan, but a lot more are vegetarian, which means they eat no meat but still have milk and so on...something everyone eats? Erm sweet stuff? Sugar and sweet things aren't usually banned for vegans since they come from a plant...Corn Syrup? Yeah, I can eat that, it's fine...you would sign the petition? Thanks!"

Crowley's face beside her was thunderous as his fingers tapped against her waist, seemingly deep in thought. _He just wants Dick out of here now, I suppose. _She placed her hand over his to still it. Partly because it was annoying her, partly for appearances. His eyes caught hers and were clearly questioning her actions, unused to her displaying what looked like affection.

"Anyway, Dick. It's been lovely meeting you, but as your host I think it's courtesy to recommend that it is now time for you to leave."

The smile was gone from the face and she ardently wished that it was back, despite previously finding it chilling and reminiscent of Jack Nicholson's crazy grin in the shining. "What makes you think you have any choice over when I leave? We three could kill all of you in this room right now and have an all you can eat buffet."

"Hrmm. Sorry darling but no." All this time, once she'd finished her food, she had been keeping her left hand hidden behind Crowley's back, performing lazy movements that could have been written off as her just flexing her fingers, they were so slow and random. Truthfully, she was working up a binding spell and weaving it into a spell to drain life force, which she then reinforced by repeating the spells, structuring them in her mind until it was finally completed and she could feel it crackling invisible just beneath her fingertips like a notched arrow. _Please god let this work and not just piss him off._

Dick took one step forward and she unleashed it. He staggered back, to the alarm of his companions, who grabbed his arm. He wasn't totally unconscious like she hoped, but she'd definitely knocked him off guard. He stood up, flicking his chin in irritation.

"That's a warning shot." Evangeline lied, truly terrified by how little it had affected him. _Maybe lesser leviathans will be more affected. Chin up Evie, it had an effect and he didn't expect it._

"That so? How do I know you aren't bluffing?"

"How do you know I'm not?" She countered with an icy smile. "Now, _Dick_, get out of my house before I throw you out."

After the three left the room, Evangeline became aware of the eye of many creatures on her in...respect? Fear? Crowley led her over to one of the many circular tables that had been set up around the ballroom and took her hand in his. She grudgingly allowed him to and they sat in silence for a while, Lucy drifting over to Stheno to talk about God knows what. Increasingly becoming more aware of the silent presence of the Demon King, Evangeline decided she may as well break it.

"So what did I do now?"

"Nothing. Just practically declared war," he stated blandly "So you'd better find some way of disabling the Leviathans because currently you have nothing, am I right?"

"Maybe." She sniffed defensively. "Maybe not. Now we're meant to be having our first dance, just as soon as my other relatives show their faces."

"..Come again?"

"Dancing. Putting on foot next to the other in rhythm. May have heard of it. I should warn you though, I never learned so we'll be limited to artful swaying only."

Crowley huffed and raised his head. "I should probably point out my lieutenants. Most of which you ignored to go and speak to Dick. They were not much pleased. Immediately below myself in the chain of command is Viceroy Belial, who took over running the crossroads demons, then Baal whom you met earlier."

"The duke? What does he do? You said tactical operations?"

"He ensures the continued imprisonment of any troublesome demons, anyone who betrayed state secrets, worked with hunters. He also oversees the training of specific talents in those who have a natural affinity. It all takes place in the citadel."

"The citadel of sorrows." She murmured, remembering a line from a book she'd once read on the subject.

"You humans are so dramatic with your names. Mount Doom indeed. Below Baal is Marquess Naburus of the border mark, she organises the defence of the realm from anyone who would seek to break in." _Who the Hell would want to do that? _She wondered, but listened as he continued. "She was one of my most steadfast supporters during my usurping of the throne. Wicked woman. Countess Vetis is Hell's creator in a sense, she is in charge of the area of Hell where human souls are tortured into becoming demons. It used to be held by a demon named Alastair up until recently held the position and she is not quite so popular as her previous boss, much more vile and inventive in her methods, which I had not thought possible."

Evangeline looked across at the demon he was describing. She was occupying a girl of around 16, willowy and short in stature with wispy blonde hair and cherubic, pouting lips. She certainly didn't _look_ threatening. Still, she was glad Crowley was whispering discreetly.

"Finally, the two Barons Melchom and Irvene. Melchom is treasurer and record keeper for all of Hell, deciding what type of demon a raw second born will become, keeper of all contracts, though these will change hands sometimes in special cases. As soon as a soul enters Hell, a record for that person appears in his vast library and he will make a decision. To the rack – which I've remade, actually, or to the pit, the meat factory where they will be made into a demon. Irvene is...well, a glorified Kennelmaster. He raises and trains hellhounds. His personal one, the first ever made is over six and a half feet high. They only get larger with age."

The two 'Barons' as Crowley had referred to them as, were both also inhabiting quite unassuming looking people. The accountant was staying to the fringes of the room, clearly not wanting to be here, whilst Irvene was laughing boisterously at something Jonathan had said. Her family were standing in the doorway awkwardly by now, so she decided it was time to get the dance over with, rising wordlessly and offering Crowley her hand.

It was absurd. Totally mad, she thought as they took up position in the middle of the room. The opening keys of the song rang out and they started slowly moving in time, her hand around his shoulders, his on her waist. He chuckled lightly as he heard the first words. Clearly she had a sense of irony.

"_White demon love song down the hall...white demon shadow on the road..."_

A few couples joined them on the dancefloor and as they turned on the spot, Evangeline spotted Simon's face by chance. He looked sick, pale and unsteady on his face. He was looking across the dancefloor with what could only be described as pure fear. The song was ending soon, one of the reasons she'd picked it was it was nice and short. Intent on going over as soon as it was over, she glanced back at Crowley to find him staring at her intensely. _What's got him all riled up?_

She'd been determined to get off the dancefloor, but Duke Baal was true to his word and danced her all around the floor in a swift tango that she barely kept up with, treading on his feet more often than treading on the actual floor. It didn't help that he kept dipping her without warning, sending her head spinning, as well as attempting to flatter her with compliments. She broke away from him after the song ended but was accosted straight away by Belial, the new leader of the Crossroads Demons. He, at least, was courteous to a fault and lead her in a gentle waltz, warning her with a whisper before he twirled her. _Please tell me there's nobody else who wants to inflict dancing upon me?_

Oh, but there was. Here came Irvene, who looked as ill at ease as her, though he concealed it beneath a scowl. It cleared slightly though when she mentioned hellhounds. He then quite happily explained the whole process to her for the short time they were together and promised to lend her a book on the subject, saying with some resentment that Crowley had only ever been interested in what hellhounds could do and how to make them bigger, rather than how they were actually made.

After that, she was careful to leave and head for the door. Josh stood there, one arm looped protectively around Chris' waist. He seemed to be keeping an eye on herself, Beth and Lucy. She hadn't noticed that her blonde bombshell of a cousin had also taken to the dancefloor, but there she was, dancing sensually with a man much taller than herself. He wasn't a demon; by now all of the demons were showing their eyes in some sort of weird honour display. She just prayed he was one of the more neutral monsters here.

"Quite the society event this." Josh commented as she drew near. "You've even got a few Pagan gods turning up to wish you well. Though apparently they're just here for the food. Crowley's got them all eating out of his hand. None of them are pleased about what that Leviathan said earlier though."

"Yes, I can imagine they wouldn't be."

Her eyes found Lucy finally, talking to the gorgon Stheno and waving her hands enthusiastically while the gorgon nodded and nibbled occasionally on a rib bone, her replies short. Crowley was in a group with all his underlings that he'd pointed out, glass of amber liquid in hand. A dark skinned woman standing beside one window tilted her head to the side as she noticed Evangeline's gaze upon her. Her posture was refined, the lines of her face drawn into a superior look. She looked Evangeline up and down once before looking away, clearly unsatisfied with whatever she had seen.

"Is it me or did I just get given the stank eye?" Evie asked Josh, frowning. He chuckled and shrugged.

"I think that's the least of your problems, don't you? By the way, Simon's gone upstairs looking like someone just slaughtered his kitten."

"I noticed. I'll go find him." Evangeline sighed, really wishing the night would end and the guests would all leave already. "Watch out for the Amazonians, one of them is giving you the 'have my babies' look."

Josh laughed and Chris smirked tiredly "I'll keep him under control. Shall we meet up in the little attic room you told us about? A proper family send off?"

"You bet," she affirmed. "I'll get Simon, you tell Lucy and Beth. Don't all leave at the same time though or Crowley will notice."

She bustled off, running her hand through her curled hair, hoping Simon would be hiding out in his room. Meanwhile, Kali watched her go, pondering the strange woman whom Crowley claimed as his wife. As a goddess of destruction, time and change, she had known as soon as she saw the woman that she was no good. _Change. So much change that could go either way. But no matter, her life cycle will come to a close soon enough. That much is certain. Her time is short. She just doesn't know it yet._ Kali swept her eyes over the crowd, lip curling into a sneer. Demons and degenerates. Gabriel would have loved it, pranced around in that child-like joy he'd always bubbled with. But he had died, as they all did. So she was alone again, waiting for the end of the world that never came. The oldest being in the room sighed, took another sip of the champagne before setting it down and disappearing. These events just weren't fun anymore.

* * *

Evangeline knocked on the door again, her temper running thin. She could see that there was a light on inside Simon's room, yet he wasn't answering. She was seriously considering breaking the thin wooden barrier down when he opened it and she blinked at him nonplussed.

He'd been crying. Simon, bane of the demon world, had been sitting in there alone crying. She was caught short of something to say, eyes roving over his pink swollen eyes and contorted expression. He stood aside and she entered, careful not to catch her dress on anything. The room was a mess, to put it bluntly. Splinters littered the floor from a smashed antique dressing table and there were fragments of mirror scattered her and there. _What the Hell Simon?_

"I hope you won't get in trouble with Crowley-" He muttered and she cut him off, dragging the door shut.

"Forget Crowley. What's up with you?"

He avoided her eyes and flicked his shoulders irritatedly "Nothing. Just felt like letting off some steam."

"Lie to me again and I'll kick you in the knee. No sit down and talk." She said firmly, ignoring the look of pure malice he shot her.

"You've got one Hell of a nerve talking to me like that."

"Says the man who insulted me and my brother, then turns up after all these years and can't even bother with a 'hello' let alone a simple 'sorry for being a prick'!"

He sat down on the bed, stretching out his legs and folding his arms across his chest. _Defensive body language. _"I'm sorry for that day, Evangeline. I never wanted to hurt either of you." He stated slowly, glaring at his hands as if they had mortally offended him.

"Better, but don't think you're getting away with anything that easy. Now tell me what got you all worked up tonight. Or better still, how bout you tell me what's been going on the past ten years or so? You know, since you jumped off the slippery slope?" His eyes returned to hers and he shook his head fervently.

"No, I can't. I just... I recognised one of the demons here tonight. That's all." It was clear that he was telling a half truth, but she decided to let this one slip.

"Fine, be cryptic. But I'm always here if you want to talk. Beth too. Because whatever's going on in your head is unhealthy." She prodded his forehead for emphasis before smiling crookedly. "Lets go upstairs, the others will be waiting. I'm looking forward to showing you my humble abode."

* * *

The room had turned out well, all things considered. Simon hesitated at the door, eyeing the symbol carved into the handle. She nodded at his unspoken question; he would be granted entrance. The symbol was specialised to a specific binding spell. Blood binding; Similarly to the wards on her family home, it would only allow those that had been made a part of the family past the door. The curious thing about it was that it transcended any other protection made to the room, meaning that if a creature went through the ritual that made them a part of her family, they would be immune to any barrier she placed upon the room. The Stratton's had been very careful to remove any books containing that spell from existence long ago. Well, not completely from existence...

Simon smiled, his face suddenly lightening at the realisation she was removing the banishment she had inflicted on him before.

"Don't make me do it again." She muttered to him and he nodded.

The others were already there, squashed onto a few chairs that she had smuggled up here. Bringing a sofa up all on her own was no option, so she'd bought some cheap self assembly furniture and frustrated herself for hours over the instructions. All in all though, she was pleased with her work.

In one corner of the room was a soft rug beneath a rickety desk and soft padded chair. Her 'filing system' was spread all across the desk and, on occasion the floor. Two small bookcases stood against the wall that made up one end of the house, one filled with books whilst the other had various tools stacked on it; jars of summoning materials, each neatly labelled. Bowls for different purposes were stacked inside each other, knives made of different materials laid out ready. It was almost OCD in organisation, but she'd always been a stickler for keeping the important stuff orderly. Paperwork, however was a different matter. She really should get some binders or _something_-

"Nice place you got here. Just screams 'normal'" Lucy commented, putting her feet up on the coffee table. "The sigils carved into each floorboard are totally reassuring."

Evangeline had spent an entire day cross legged, drawing long strips of every single symbol she could think of down each floorboard, the painting demon traps and angel proofing onto the underside of the roof tiles, finishing it off by lacquering the whole place with a combination of holy water, salt and lemon juice. She'd also (reluctantly) applied some dead man's blood to the back of the door and the stairs. It wasn't as strong a deterrent when dried, but weaker vampires would be slowed by it.

"If anyone ever found this place they'd be getting you a lovely white jacket with sleeves that tie up at the back." Chris joked, eyeing up Simon warily. To his credit, Simon sat down, making no comment about Chris sitting on Josh's lap.

"Ha bloody ha, now lets get this business done with." Evangeline sighed, rolling her desk chair over to the circle and collapsing into it. "The book is safe, we needn't concern ourselves about that. But I'm thinking we maybe need to start keeping a closer eye on the situation out here. I mean come on, we missed the Apocalypse people, that's not sloppy that's inexcusable. I'm coming out of retirement." Josh's head jerked up "Yeah, I know. I promised. But Dad wouldn't hold me to it if he could see the mess the world is in these days. Just until this whole leviathan thing is sorted. What do we know about them Beth?"

"Nothing whatsoever." Her cousin replied, shifting in her seat "They are mentioned in the Bible, once in great detail. Job chapter 41 verses 1 to 34. I'll summarise; We are screwed. For 'He sees iron as straw, and brass as rotten arrow cannot make him flee: slingstones are turned with him into stubble.' It goes on and on about what cannot kill it and how 'none is so fierce that dare stir him up'. Except you, seemingly." Beth smiled.

"Wonderful. Anything in lore about what we _can _use?"

"One thing. In Psalms, there's a passage where God is said to have 'braketh the heads of leviathan in pieces, and gavest him to be meat to the people inhabiting the wilderness'"

"So we what...eat them? Rip them up?"

"You got me. We could check the book?"

"Not until we try everything else. Crowley will be watching my every move. I can't just travel on back to England without him noticing and having me followed."

They were all silent, each caught in their own thoughts until Lucy finally broke it. "Weren't you going to contact that..uhm...girl? See about contacting these Winchesters?"

"I'll do that now. You guys brainstorm. Who else can we contact?" More accurately, how many of dad's contacts from the old days are still alive? She wondered, firing up the laptop and typing out a message to samlicker81.

_Becky Rosen,_

_I know this is sudden, but my name is Evangeline Stratton and I am a hunter from England. I need your help to get into contact with Sam and Dean Winchester. I recently heard about the books and realised they were too accurate lore-wise to be a work of fiction. I'm currently in a bit of a sticky situation with the king of Hell, Crowley and could really use your advice; I don't have time to read the books, I need someone to tell me exactly what I need to know FAST. Also, on your blog you mentioned having read books that aren't out for public consumption. Books that have angels in. _

_I know I almost certainly sound like a complete internet whack job, but this is not a joke. To help prove it, I'm attaching a picture of an angel banishing sigil. They must have been described at some point in the book, so here take a look._

Evangeline attached the file and typed out her skype address before sending the email. She browsed around for a while, looking up 'leviathan' on various search engines but only coming up with a few biblical references and demonology views on leviathans. She printed them and dumped them onto the table for the others before heading back. _Richard Roman...Richard Roman..._

There was plenty of information on him and she printed it all, along with a picture. She noticed an invite on Skype pop up and smiled. That was quick. Tacking the picture to a world map she'd spread out on a noticeboard to one side of the room, Evangeline stared a moment at the picture of Dick Roman tacked to the city of Los Angeles, surrounded on all sides by empty board. _It'll fill up soon enough._

She sidled back over to her desk, accepting the request from Becky and was immediately video called by the girl.

"Lucy, come here a second? Becky." Lucy raised an eyebrow but came to sit on the edge of the desk as Evie accepted the call. It loaded slowly until a woman's face popped up on the screen, ravenously excited. She grinned and performed a little half wave before catching herself and dropping it.

"_Hey, I'm Becky, so you must be?"_

"Evan, pleased to meet you. This is my cousin Lucy, she's in the family business too. The other folks are here to, but they're a little busy doing some research."

"_That's cool! Whatever, I mean, are you looking into a demon's nest or something?" _The girl's voice was fakely nonchalant, but Evangeline didn't call her on it.

"No, something much bigger I'm afraid-"

"_Hey are you English?"_

"Well, yes. I'm not just putting an accent on for fun-"

"_That is SO cool! You have hunters there too! Wow I am so-"_

"Becky! Focus a little, huh? We need to know, is there anything in the books on how to contact Sam and Dean?"

"_Nope, sorry. There is a thing where it mentions they go to Vegas one week every year but that isn't for a few months. But hey, I could send you a link to my site, there's character profiles and summaries there, that might help you out. Chuck kinda disappeared a few years ago though. The last book he wrote was where the boys stopped the Apocalypse. Sam died. He threw himself in the cage so that Lucifer would be trapped again." _The girl sniffed. _God, is she going to cry? _Evie wondered, deeply spooked by the girl.

"Okay, well he must still be alive because Crowley said Winchesters, plural-"

"_I KNEW IT! I just knew, you know, that he couldn't be dead-" _The girl continued to babble a little, oblivious to the fact the others weren't really listening any more. Simon wandered up, just out of view of the camera and looked at the screen, raising an eyebrow.

"Why are you talking to a civvie?" His coarse voice rode over Becky's. "What could she possibly know?"

"_Who was that?"_

Simon stepped into view, pushing Evangeline out of her chair and sitting down. "Evie's cousin. We're going to need-"

Evangeline left Simon to it. Whilst Simon was definitely not only the black sheep of the family, but more accurately the rabid, twitching one making the weird noises, he was efficient and scrupulously precise. He would find what they needed and take no prisoners. Plus, his no nonsense manner was exactly what was needed to deal with Becky since Evangeline wanted nothing more than to just binge eat ice cream right now.

_I'm married. I'm actually married. _She groaned and curled up next to her brother, not giving a flying crap if her dress got ruined.

* * *

Simon rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms out to either side as he walked down the dark corridor. He was exhausted from arranging a day for him to go around to Becky's residence to pick up the manuscripts Chuck had left behind in his house. She'd salvaged them when she went to visit him and found him to have disappeared. His parents had taken everything else, so he'd have to visit them as well just to ascertain whether there had been anything else of use in the house. It would cost him to fly there, but it would be worth it if it helped Evangeline. Familia ante ceteros.

"You believe I didn't see you, didn't you Simon." A melodious voice whispered into his ear and he whirled, striking at the open air with a fist. Arms wrapped around him from behind and he jerked his elbows backwards, failing to strike the demon as they disappeared again.

"I danced with your cousin earlier. She's beautiful. Does she know? Do any of them?"

"Show yourself, Belial."

"So you can put a knife in my heart? I think not."

"Heart? I'd much rather ram it down your throat you-"

Belial laughed scornfully and Simon was slammed sideways into the wall. "Well, you do have quite intimate knowledge of just how much ramming things into another person pleases me, don't you Simon?"

"Fuck you," Simon spat, climbing up onto his feet and twisting on the spot, knife in hand.

"Didn't you already do that?" Belial gibed, as footsteps approached from the stairs. "Must go. But I'll be back to give my regards to Evangeline."

Simon stayed still, waiting for another comment that never came. Crowley reached the top of the staircase at the other end of the corridor, staring at Simon in the dim lighting. He shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled over to the hunter, smiling impassively.

"Catching up with old friends?"

"The only reason I don't slit you from nose to navel, Crowley, is because there is worse out there. Don't let Belial anywhere near Evie."

"I'm blushing, really, that was practically a compliment. Why do you think he's so much worse, pray tell?"

"None of your concern. Just keep him away. That demon's insidious ways make Hitler look like a fluffy teddybear."

Crowley nodded, appraising the information. "Noted." He walked halfway past Simon, then stopped and raised a finger "Funny story Belial was telling me just now. About a hunter named Kai." Simon's eyes widened and Crowley added "Wouldn't happen to know him now would you?"

"If you tell them-"

"You'll split me open and make me eat my own entrails, I know. Don't try to tell me what to do and we won't have a problem, capiche?"

The demon sauntered away, cutting an impressive figure despite being much smaller in physique than Simon. _I want to rip his entrails out and use his ribcage as a xylophone, but the demon does have style. _

Simon gazed back down the hallway, still holding his knife in one hand whilst the other fingered the vial of salt he had in his pocket. Belial was gone, leaving only the after-taste of bloody memories and bitter hatred. He would not let his pride come before Evangeline's safety. Familia ante ceteros.

* * *

Evie let the thin veil fall over the dress stand, stepping back so that the maid could take it away. _Goodbye wedding dress._ She wasn't sorry to see it go; freedom from the corset underneath was a blessing.

_They'll have noticed I'm gone by now, but it's getting later as it is. People are already leaving, those who can't teleport have already gone. Long way to travel, I suppose, for some._

As she slid underneath the covers she wondered briefly what Crowley was doing right now and whether he'd be upstairs soon. _My husband..._as she thought it Jason's face sprung into her mind unbidden. Crowley and the word husband were just incompatible to her. The word husband to her conjured mental images of a man with kind laughing eyes, who would hold her for no reason other than to have her close and a smile like a sunbeam when he looked on their children or upon her. She could just about imagine Jason being like that; he was like that at times. Crowley? Hell would freeze over before he _ever_ fit any of those descriptions.

Drifting into the oblivion of sleep seemed easier than usual that night, knowing that now they were married she had fulfilled the mandatory part of the contract. _Tomorrow is the day I stop playing mouse, _she resolved, yawning.

* * *

_**I am Simon and I am 16. I am packing my suitcase as my sister and I leave to different apprenticeships over the summer break. I have finished compulsory school, but next year I am going to go back into further studies. It is my dream to study art and my sketches paper the walls of my bedroom. There are drawings of the surrounding mountains, trees and the pretty girl next door called Susie.**_

_**Kai Jones is waiting to pick me up, drinking tea with my mother in the kitchen. He is within his late twenties, handsome and strongly built. He has never married, will never marry or raise children. But in this moment at this time, he is smiling at a joke Beth has made as she flutters her eyelashes at him. If he notices, he pretends not to. But my father does and hastens our departure, saying only a brief 'bye' to me. He wants the man with the rust red hair and pretty blue eyes out of the house and away from his only daughter.**_

_**I am to spend the summer studying wyvern, more specifically sea wyvern. Distant cousins of Dragons, or so Kai tells me. First came the lindworms, who had no legs. Then the sea wyverns evolved, with two short hindlegs akin to fins and wide crests along their backs. Their air born brothers, wyverns have fully developed hindlegs and claws on the end of their enormous wings. Savage creatures, but unlike their four legged cousins the dragon, they do not have the ability to generate heat. Their human forms are usually very beautiful, but they must wait until they are five years of age before they can change into their human form.**_

_**All this Kai taught me, over the beginning of the long summer. There was a sea wyvern currently nesting in loch Morar. When they give birth wyverns will swim inland and take refuge in lochs, so that the child will be safe when it is too small to fend for itself. A nursery pool, of sorts.**_

_**The village, if it can be called that, nearby is quiet and subdued. Nobody bothers us, so we don't bother them. There are a group of university students who have come to camp out next to the loch. Kai is troubled; we do not want another Loch Ness incident. The locals already have a legend of a creature Morag who is said to live in the lake. It is curious that nobody has pieced the puzzle together, considering how many loch monsters have been spotted over the years; all sea wyvern. They head for the lochs with the widest channels to the sea, preferring deep water to hide themselves. Not just Scotland either; Ogopogo, the white river monster and the Lake Champlain monster were both sea wyvern too, seeking deep and sheltered freshwater to have their child.**_

_**We camp out on one of the islands in the loch, hidden beneath the trees. We are not here to kill the wyvern. They are capricious and self serving, but in general they have more of a taste for fish than people and prefer to eat the occasional whale, or live in their human form.**_ **_As such, arrangements are often made between hunters and sea wyvern as soon as a wyvern knows itself to be with child. _**

_**She slides out of the water nearby, blinking in the low moonlight as water cascades from her body. A woman, naked as the day she was born, though she pays it no notice. Beside me, Kai laughs and slaps my back as he notices my averted eyes. **_

"_**Did you think she'd be swimming about in a polka dot bikini lad? Eh?" The scott grins and sidles up to her, checking her stomach and asking if she is in any pain. The woman- the wyvern, is quick to answer, glancing over her shoulder every now and then.**_

"_**How is the baby?"**_

"_**He is well."**_

_**As if on command, a small head pokes forth out of the shallows, screeching and snapping jaws alerting us to it's presence. I step forward to get a closer look at this baby monster and the woman is in front of it, hissing at me.**_

"_**He's a Stratton. Calm your spitting." Kai freezes, straightening. "Did you hear..? Must be my mind. Off with ye."**_

_**The woman warps, her skin twisting to scales and I have to look away; it makes me feel queasy to watch bones shift and scrape and snap. When I look back a great serpent creature is before me and I can't believe that the baby, which is the size of a Labrador, will grow to be this size. **_

_**She lowers her head in a bow, fixing amber eyes on me as a shot rings out and slices clean through the air between us.**_

_**It is a cliché, but truly, everything happened at once. She screams, the great sea wyvern at the bullet in her hide and the university students leap from the brush with black eyes gleaming as Kai draws his knife. One appears behind him and knocks him to the ground. I don't waste time turning around; just duck and feel a blade slice over my head where my stomach had just been. Twist, kick his legs out, what is the damn exorcism? My knife will suffice. It can kill demons, this knife. But Kai's cannot. Kai's is just iron. The wyvern is thrashing, struggling back into the water and snapping at demons, biting the head off of one. Then one demon steps forward from the rest and speaks words that made the blood in my veins crystallize and burn like the sun. She shivers and is human, with blood pouring from a belly wound. In the Loch, her baby cries. He comes ashore and her eyes are on him as the demon raises a hand with a knife in. **_

_**There is salt in my pocket.**_

_**I grab the baby and it squeals, trying to bite my fingers off with its stumpy teeth. A circle of salt on the ground, messy but large enough for the both of us and Kai. I look up, wrestling the baby wyvern as it protests. Its mother is half dead and being strung up not far from us, her blood being collected into a bucket placed conveniently beneath her. She chokes on her blood as it flows into her mouth from her position hung upside down from the tree branch.**_

_**She spits, expelling precious blood onto the face of her captor, who calmly collects the drooping trail on a finger before flicking it into a bucket. Kai is held to the ground by two demons, his nose as blood red as his hair. I try to make the creature in my arms be still. This rare mythical creature that wants nothing but its mother and has no idea how much danger it is in. I have no rope, so I rip out my bootlaces and try to tie its feet with those but the scales are too slippery and it won't stop wriggling. **_

"_**Little hunter boy, let the child go to its mother. That's what it wants." The demon leader coos, coming to stand the other side of the salt barrier, right in my face.**_

"_**Go back to Hell." I say it and feel stupid – I can't remember an exorcism rite, unlike Beth who has memorised the entire process, as well as two variations. She is very studious, the serious one in the family.**_

"_**Why don't you make me? I will leave you and your friend...if you give me the wyvern. A small one has less blood, but every drop is worth a thousand diamonds."**_

"_**Don't listen-" Kai croaks and the demon backhands him, suddenly standing behind my mentor and pulling his head back by the hair.**_

"_**Do you know my name, hunter child? My title? No matter. You need only know that unless you give me that creature your friend will die. He will be humiliated, beaten and bloodied. You can help him, or you can watch."**_

_**He smirks, black eyes glittering like two fat beetles perched within his eye sockets and Kai glances up at me one last time. His eyes are the only colour in the blackness; bright bright blue against pale white skin.**_

_**Then he is forced to his knees, face pressed to the ground and the demon whips of his belt. He strikes the back of Kai's legs, eliciting a muffled grunt. On the next strick, the buckle hits Kai's shoulder blade and the crack resonates in the surrounding trees. I pray and I hope and I cry. Kai has blood in his rust red hair, dripping down his temple like an ice lolly that's been left in the sun. Drip drip drip, I think, rocking myself and the creature in my arms that has long since stopped struggling.**_

_**The demon's hands move back to its waist and I slam my eyelids shut, refusing to see this. You are at home, in the moon clearing on the family residence, warded against all demons and foul beings. You are safe. They are just ghosts, imagine they are ghosts. Not real, never real.**_

"_**If you don't open your eyes and keep them open I will slit his throat right now." My eyes are open, but I look up at the sky. My mother once told me that stars were God's tears. If they were then he was certainly weeping tonight, for the night was bursting with pinpricks of fire. Libra was particularly bright. The scales of justice; how very ironic. Finally, I lower my eyes, unable to put off the sight any longer.**_

_**Kai is silent, face turned downwards as the demons hoot with laughter, their leader knelt behind him gripping his hips and slamming into him. He winks at me as if we are comrades in a joke as Kai tries to struggle upwards. He lazily places one palm onto Kai's back and forces him down as easily as batting away a fly. Another demon in a woman's body is laying beside Kai, stroking his face and reached forward to lick his cheek, probing towards the curve of his ear. He flinches away from her, burying his face to the ground. I notice his hands clasped together in front of him, supporting his weight. Is he praying? I wonder. How can God not answer?**_

_**Then there are eyes on mine, light bright blue and questioning. There is pain in them and resignation, amongst a thousand other emotions, but they want something from me. I know what it is. I know what Kai Jones, a proud man who had a future before him, wants. Kai who would cook waffles for me every morning, who taught me how to row and sail a boat and jokingly forced me into talking to one of the village girls. Kai whose name means Rejoice and Ocean, whilst mine just means Listening. I am Simon, aged 16 on a cold island on a lake in Scotland, watching my friend raped. So I do what he silently begs me to do.**_

_**I close tear filled eyes-**_

* * *

-and Evie opens them, tearing at bedclothes and heaving out great sobs, dry heaving. _Belial. Belial. Belial. _She chants, head falling into her hands and knees curling into her chest. The demon who she danced with tonight and who was so gentlemanly and sweet. Crowley's new leader of the crossroads demons. _Belial. Belial. Belial._ Her mind won't rest, scratching at the dream like a scab. _Too real, too vivid. Oh please be a dream-_

There is a snort as Crowley rolls over in his sleep. _When did he get here? How long have I slept?_ The feel of carpet beneath her feet disoriented her – she'd half expected it to be the damp ground of the tiny island. When she finally got one hand on her curtain, she ripped the fine linen off the hooks to expose the night beyond the double glazing.

She wants Simon, she realises, needs to ask him, no, _SHAKE _him and ask him why? Why has he never told her this? Why has she dreamed these horrors?

The mansion like house is crypt-like in it's silence. She'd never realised how foreboding an empty corridor could be at night. Her feet carried her automatically to the attic, her safe place. There was a light within and she raced up the stairs, goosebumps breaking out on her skin.

It was Simon, waiting for her. His eyes were colder than the frigid house, yet blazed with defiance.

"I needed to warn you but I didn't want to say, so I cast a dream spell. I know you're angry for me forcing the knowledge on you but-"

"I'm angry that you didn't tell me years ago so we could hunt this bastard down together," she cut off lowly, his face turning into surprise "And give him exactly what he deserved. He was here tonight. We could have done it then. Why did you never say?"

He shifted uncomfortably, gesturing for her to sit. "They slit his throat when I closed my eyes. They hung around a while until the wyvern was drained, then buggered off. I sat there for four hours or so, until night had passed and it was noon already. Finally, I came out of the circle." He licked his lips, "Kai always kept some flammable spirits in the boat we took out, in case we ran into a ghost needing to be rested. I used the salt that had been my shelter to give him a hunters burial of sorts; lit it up. Burned the Wyvern too, for good measure. Left the bodies though and bundled up the little one in a tarp. They're not meant to stay out of water long, so I hurried back to the mainland in the row boat and put him in the bath back at the house."

Evangeline snorted with laughter, despite herself. "I bet it wasn't happy."

"No, Sol wasn't." He smiled bitterly at her flicker of recognition.

"That's the sea wyvern-"

"Yes. The one your father brought home. It was the year before your mother died, so as head of the family I called her. She got straight on a plane and flew up to Scotland from the south. I only had to wait a few hours and she was there, sorting out transport for myself and Sol back to my house. She hot wired a car for us, I remember."

"Mum was a little...unorthodox."

He smiled wanly, "She was amazing. We talked for hours, her and me, the whole way back. We had to keep stopping whenever we got to a river to let Sol swim a while. I told her everything but I made her promise not to tell anyone. She agreed but for one exception; her husband. She wanted your father to help me too. When we got back to your house, you and Josh were both off to your grandparents, learning about outdoor survival and basic tracking."

"I remember, yes."

"It was decided that none of you would be told that Kai had died. Not even Beth knew. She asked me about him a few times afterwards. Only the adults knew that he was dead, but none other than your parents and I...knew the _exact_ manner."

His voice died and Evangeline nodded, the pieces slotting into place. _I don't know what happened._ Beth's earlier words came back to her, a twin's distress at knowing something was amiss and had been a long time. _And I shrugged it off. I thought he was just stupid and hateful. I threw him out of the family, out of our family home because of an insult to my brother and never questioned why he hated him for that reason. Oh Evie, you really need to think more sometimes._

"The day at the house. Where my father died." She stated and he knew what she was asking.

"Nobody knew the secret anymore. It was all mine to live with. Fresh in my mind. When I heard you were both giving up...When I heard that you, the leaders of the family, were going to sit back and let demons like Belial run around squeezing the life out of the world...I love Josh, Evie. I love all of you. But to see you both give up, just because your father said so, when I had seen such things and pushed through it? It made me so angry and there was you brother. The first insult on my lips was the obvious one. I know that he loves his...partner...but I cannot see them together without thinking of that night. That day so many old wounds were aching. So like a mad dog...I tore everything in sight apart."

Evie nodded, unsure what to say. _He cannot apologise fully, but it is what he is trying to say. This is the most open conversation I have had with him since we were young. I could try and force and apology from him and push him away, or accept what he's given. God knows, it's the most he can give right now. _Simon looked forlorn as a puppy that had been kicked, eyes dewy and the emotion within them turbulent.

"I don't know if I can forgive you for thinking of my brother that way," she stated baldly. "But I can understand why you did and for that, I can try to forget until such a time as you...well. Until you can understand that Josh being with another man is not wrong."

Simon's lips quirked "I never expected forgiveness. I would have taken the secret to the grave, to keep Kai's dignity intact. He wouldn't want people gossiping about his death. I only did it so you would know not to trust Belial. To remind you not to trust _any_ demon. Not even Crowley. Let him protect you, but do not trust him, Evie. They all lie and scheme and prey on each other and on humans. Eyes and ears open-"

"Mouth and mind shut. Thank you, Simon." She glanced down and barked out a laugh. She was wrapped in the curtain from her room, having dragged it with her unawares. When she looked back up, Simon was standing, face back into the neutral expression it usually showed. He gave her a nod and swept from the room without a backward glance.

_There goes a man much braver than me,_ she reflected tiredly, _who has borne the weight of that night alone so that a dead man will rest easy whilst he, the living breathing survivor suffers silently._

She was a secret keeper now, she realised. Kai Jones was a faint memory to her, a presence at dinner parties as a family friend, but Simon's memories had sparked something inside her gut. _Keep two eyes on Simon, _her father had said. The significance of the words had been lost on her at the time, but now she knew. Simon was broken beyond repair, dangerous to himself when he allowed himself to brood on the past. When grievances are held within, they seethe and boil until they explode. He needs an anchor. He needs family.

She sighed. He was going to kill her. But she had to make him tell Beth. There was no other way through it. The other woman is exactly what he needs. In time, maybe he'll tell the others. We're not children any more and a dead man has no honour, only worms.

Crowley was as she left him, sprawled on his back and snoring lightly. _Behold the king of Hell, in all his finery. _ She thought sarcastically, shoving him over to one side of the bed so that she had room enough to lay down. He immediately rolled back into the middle of the bed, one arm thumping her on the chest as he smacked his lips, sound asleep. She scowled and pinched his arm between thumb and forefinger, raising it up and letting it thump onto the bed besides him before snuggling back into the covers to warm back up.

After thirty seconds, he shuffled and rolled over, putting his arm back on her and resting his chin on her shoulder. Evie sighed. _This is going to be a long night..._

* * *

**culus – **Arsehole. (Latin)

**In nomine patris, et filii et spiritus sancti – **In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit (Latin)

**Au contraire mon amour** – On the contrary my love (French)

**battlecruiser** – If someone say's they're going on a battlecruiser, It means going on a boozer, or a pub crawl (Cockney Rhyming slang)

**Nuclear **– Pub, as in 'Nuclear Sub' (Cockney rhyming slang)

**Nelson** – Pint of Stella, 'Nelson Mandela' (Cockney rhyming slang)

**Jacksie** – From 'Jack and Danny', meaning Fanny but can also mean arse. (Cockney Rhyming Slang)

**Ne pleure pas pour moi ange, je vais voir ta maman** – Don't cry my angel, I am going to see your mother (French)

**Je suis désolé pour pleurer papa. Il est juste que je vais te manquer avant que nous retrouverons. **- I'm sorry for crying Dad. It's just that I will miss you until we meet again.

**Moi Aussi **– Me also.

**Père! Non, je refuse. La chasse est dans mon sang, Votre famille et la famille de ma mère sont chasseurs. Il est ma vocation**. - Father! No, I won't. Hunting is in my blood, Your family and my mother's family were hunters. It is my vocation.

**Silence maintenant mon ange. Tu dois me promettre qu'on ne chasse plus. Je veux vous de se concentrer sur la recherche d'un mari qui vous aime et une vie exempte de souffrance.** - Hush now my angel. You must promise me that you won't hunt anymore. I want you both to focus on finding a husband you love and a life devoid of suffering.

**Familia ante ceteros – **Family before all others (Latin)

**A/N By the end of writing this chapter (LOOOONG TIME!) ffnet has put up a notice on my birthday (terrible timing) reminding us how we shouldn't be putting anything MA up under 'M'. Since this has got a lot of people in a spin, I'm just going to confirm;**

**They can kiss my lily white ass. They've gone ten years without policing this stuff and I think the fact they haven't put up an option to rate things MA is a censorship of other people's writing. So there WILL be explicit violence and lemons later on, because that is the way I envision the story. If the story ever is removed for it, I'll repost it on tumblr or something and let all those who have it on alert know where it's been moved to. **


	4. It Belongs in a Museum!

**A/N Hello to you all once again! A new chapter, though I apologise in advance for its lack of comedy. You'll have to make do with the insane amounts of UST I put in instead. I'm sure you're all weeping at THAT ;) Thank you ALL for your continued reviews, they motivate me so much to continue.**

**I would also like to say that I know next to nothing about Russian history and I most certainly do not know Russian, so if any of the facts stated are wrong you have my humble apologies. I did try to research everything as much as possible. ****The items that I say are missing really are missing. Whether there actually IS a demon somewhere in the world with them...unlikely. **

**WARNING: Sexual scenes. If this creeps you out...Why the hell are you still here? ;) Also, how do you plan on having children?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. However I have nefarious plans to remedy this.**

**Beta-ed by the wonderful Hydracia**

* * *

**Chapter Four: It belongs in a Museum!**

**Post by Evangeline Clairmont in hidden facebook group; Satan's Secret Sluts (67 members)**

Well hello there you sexy, sexy ladies! Time for the first of my weekly updates, and what a week it's been- So I am now Mrs. Evangeline McLeod – Yeah, Crowley's second name is McLeod. Or at least I hope it is. Because if that's a name he's chosen that doesn't exactly say much for his taste...I've included all the wedding photos for your amusement. Doesn't Crowley look DASHING? He held an after party for monsters, incredibly awkward since I'd killed some of them previously. Anyhow, knock yourselves out, I'll have more news soon...devious plans are officially in the works, so as I believe the kids are saying these days...BOOYAH xx

First 24 comments (out of 63):

Rebecca Jonstone: Keep up the courage Evan! All of us are right behind you girl you make him regret ever trying to get himself a wife – GIVE HIM SOME HELL! (10 likes)

Tara Collins: Who says the kids are just saying it? I'm hip too yknow.

Evangeline Clairmont: Hip REPLACEMENT you mean. Getting on a bit aren't we mummy?

Tara Collins: OH MY XD Just looked through those photos and that hat.. Oh Evan my womb just squirmed. He looks like sex! And really GOOD sex! ...p.s shut your bleeding cake hole about my age.

June Lansdon: sex on the beach? ;)

Tara Colllins: Hell no June, have you ever actually had sex on the beach? You know when you go to the beach and there's sand in your shoes for ages after... Imagine that but with your vagina. And you have to avoid the coast guards. And it's COLD. And WINDY. Damn near froze my nipples off. That would _not_ have looked sexy.

Evangeline Clairmont: Sounds like you're QUITE the expert Tara...is there something we should know? ;)

Sarah White: lmao you guys are the best seriously, plus you looked beautiful Evan, you're so brave for going through with this, I don't think I would have been able to xx (4 likes)

Evangeline Clairmont: Thanks Sophia! I remember you from the ballroom, how's business?

Sarah White: we just got a big deal actually! Could be worth millions so I am as happy as the prostitute from pretty woman.

Tara Collins: okay, you got me. So I MAY have once had sex on a beach in Margate with my now husband. It was during my art college years, I was a free spirit...it was going well right up until a policeman wandered by and tried to book us for indecent exposure. Ahh to be a rebel again...

June Langsdon: oh Jesus I think I just pissed myself a little I laughed so hard. (3 likes)

Evangeline Clairmont: ..._tried_ to book you?!

Tara Collins: yeah, I saw him coming so we got up and just booked it along the beach with my hubby holding his jeans up because he didn't have time to do them up. All the policeman got was my discarded lacy undies and probably a decent view of my arse as I ran away in my mini skirt.

Evangeline Clairmont: like a slutty Cinderella. (3 likes)

June Lansdon: 'and the policeman declared that whoever should fit these panties would be declared his culprit and live to be for ever after known as the slut of all Margate' – Now that's a kids story to remember.

Tara Collins: it's funny looking back but at the time I was mortified. I had to walk through town holding my skirt down. It was a windy night and I kept mooning people because the wind was blowing my skirt up. And the stupid policeman interrupted us right before we finished so we were both horny as hell. In the end we broke into one of the little boats moored in the harbour and errr...finished what we started?

Evangeline Clairmont: This really makes me wonder what my parents got up to before they settled down, considering Tara is now a mother of two and yet was once into public sex. Then broke into someone else property and had sex there instead. (7 likes)

Tara Collins: oh god that's hilarious! And disturbing. I am never mentioning this story again. Though I will say...when we were under the pier the policeman was standing right overhead. Risky sex is awesome. June Lansdon: Agreed, but angry sex is better. What do you think Evan?

Evangeline Clairmont: I like sex of all types mate, though I don't think ill be getting any anytime soon D:

Tara Collins: By the way Evan have you got my wedding present yet? Oh and I have named the babies! They are no long being referred to as sprog and farter. I declare these children...Sean and Clare!

Evangeline Clairmont: Those are great names Tara! Put a picture up will you I want to see these beauties!

Tara Collins: Turning paedophile from lack of sex ehh Evan? ;) I'll put a picture up, but one thing I would say ladies if you ever had twins, do as the doctor says and have a caesarian. I refused because I wanted 'the exeprience' of giving birth. How stupid was I?! I felt like I gave birth to two mountains. Mountains that _kick _you on the way out. I still ache for crying out loud! Oh god, why could you not have given the MEN these problems? (14 likes)

* * *

Evangeline woke to find that Simon had 'left early' on 'business'. In other words he ran away to avoid facing her again. She hadn't pushed the issue too hard, though it irked her to find out second hand. Also, she was terrible at keeping secrets so sitting at the breakfast table with the rest of her family pretending that nothing had changed was like being torn to death by four tortoises. Slow, agonizing and something you just want over already.

Other than that the goodbyes passed without a hiccup. There were hugs, waves and an extremely awkward moment when Evie's cousin nearly shish kebabed Crowley with her knife when he appeared beside her suddenly. To his credit he dodged her quite effortlessly, ducking under the knife and pivoting on one foot to face her, frowning. _Interesting fact, Crowley is more physically able than he looks._ Evie thought, before her mind pointed out the possible double entendre. And the fact that she seriously needed to get laid if she was thinking that about _Crowley_ for god's sake.

He stood beside her until her relatives were gone before walking off without a word. _My what a charming and thoughtful husband. Probably gone straight back to business. Never knew being the king of douches was so time demanding. Gives me more time to do what I'm about to now though._

She had grown to hate the house. Well, maybe just a little. It was all after she'd taken Chris on a quick tour before they left. Being an estate agent he was itching to get a proper view of the place and how it was all laid out. She had gently told him that there was no way in Hell Crowley was going to be selling the place off any time soon and was probably more interested in buying new places and selling those for a profit. Chris had cheekily pointed out that being married to Crowley meant that any properties gained during their marriage were considered joint and so she was entitled to half. So anything Crowley bought or acquired from now on was half hers. Definitely something to think on.

They'd wandered down and through spacious rooms crammed with antique furniture. Crowley definitely had a refined taste, yet somehow the rooms didn't fit to him. They were all decorated in bright colours, with a lot of white and gold in evidence. It freaked her out a little, if she was honest, having grown up in a traditional style house that was all dark wood and warm colours. The house was beautiful, certainly. But the words gilded cage sprang quickly to mind.

"Oh this is beautiful, so late French renaissance-"

"Lacking toilets and therefore smelling of shit?"

"Don't be crass, it's beautiful!" Chris spread his arms wide, smiling at the bedroom. Hers and Crowley's room. "There's so much emphasis drawn from Versaille-"

"The smelliest palace in Europe, I do recall." Evangeline joked, smacking his arm. "Come see this room, you'll like it. It's a gallery or maybe a library. I mean, there's paintings all over the place, but these ones must be special. There's items on display as well. Some jewels and things."

The very moment they'd stepped into the long oblong room, she knew she'd done something either very wrong or very, very right. Chris squealed and ran away from her, slack jawed. What was disconcerting was that he was staring intensely at a certain set of chairs and a table that she hadn't spared a second glance before.

"Chris, the diamonds are-"

"Don't you know what this is? It's _Agarwood_, Evie! I've never seen so much, it's so rare, can't you see the patterns in the-"

"So Crowley's got some fancy wood, what's the-"

Chris burst out laughing, his face flushing pink "Well well Evie, did something more go on during your wedding night after all? Fancy wood eh? Care to share with a perverted mind-"

Evangeline snorted, playing along "After my husband are you? Eyeing up his wood?"

"Never! Though I did notice his _impressive_ arse-"

"Jesus Christ on a fucking bike Chris! You're my brother's boyfriend and he's a _demon-_"

"A _hot_ demon." He interjected, grinning. It would seem that he'd reverted to his usual self now that nobody else was around. It had upset her to see him so cowed around Crowley and the other demons in the house.

"You are so- Don't you find _anything_ wrong with that?"

"Nope, well, by most religion's standards I'm going to Hell anyway, so why not admire a demon or two as I head on down?" Winking, Chris ran his fingers over the table. "Evie...Now don't get jealous...but your husbands wood feels glorious."

Evie chortled, "I wouldn't know. I've only ever seen it not actually-"

"EVANGELINE CLAIRMONT!" Chris gasped, putting one hand over his mouth as he laughed "Well, dish the dirt. What's he like?"

"Erm...kinda on the large side?"

"I _knew _it! I just _knew_."

"Bullshit. How could you know?"

"Big hands." Chris wiggled his hands consiprationally. "It's true what they say y'know. But what I'm curious is how you saw him...shall we say _au naturel?_"

"We have to share a bed like I said, but at first I refused and slept on the floor. The day I came to pick you all up from the airport...I had to wake up earlier than usual and when I did he was sleeping in bed naked."

"No!"

"Oh yes. He also had a boner the size of Jupiter," Evangeline confided, feeling slightly victorious at being able to gossip about it finally.

"And you didn't jump on the man and have your wicked way with him?" Chris sounded slightly affronted at her abstention.

"I point you to my earlier point that _he is a demon_, then also to the fact that _I already have a boyfriend_!"

"Oh yes, I'd forgotten the sainted Jason."

"Drop it won't you Chris, he does try-"

"Fourteen months. No phone calls, no visits, the _occasional_ text to let us know you're still kicking. Don't tell me it isn't because of him. I'll bet my bum that he doesn't want you visiting us because his holier than thou mother can't stand the idea that her little boy will have gay in laws."

"It's not that at _all_ Chris, I just...I don't want him to mix with my family. I know it's bad, but I don't want him to have anything to do with the life I used to lead. He was my fresh start, I don't want that-"

"Tarnished?"Chris's tone was sour. "Kid yourself all you like Evie, but you've changed. You never used to wear makeup. Or curl your hair, or give two shits about what you wore or what anyone thought of you. I haven't even seen you in a skirt before two weeks ago."

Evie rolled her eyes. "So he's _changed _me hmm? Chris the sole reason I started wearing skirts was it's easier to have quick workplace sex in them."

Her almost brother in law snorted and leant against the wall. "Are you for real?"

"Yes, seriously, have you tried fumbling about in a medicine cupboard trying to get a pair of tight jeans off quickly?"

"Yes." Chris confirmed with a wink and it was Evie's turn to laugh.

"Either way, skirts are...shall we say, easier access? I'd always had a little bit of a feminine side in me growing up, but the job I was prepared for didn't allow for it. When Dad died and we stopped hunting, I finally got to explore that. It's just coincidence that I started dating Jason soon after that."

"Fair enough. Maybe I should start cross dressing – Jeez don't look so pale it was a joke. By the way, I love your hair curly."

"I know! I never thought I'd pull it off, but it's pretty isn't it?"

"Deffo-fucking-nately." Chris' smile turned rapidly into a smirk. "But Evie...why are you still making all this effort if there's no Jason around and therefore no chance of sex? You aren't thinking of-"

"Don't even go there Chris. Just don't."

"But you _are_ attracted to him."

Evie didn't deign to reply at first, knowing any denials she made would only in turn be denied. Besides which, hadn't her body responded to Crowley's advances yesterday? Finally, grudgingly, she muttered; "Maybe."

"Maybe? Have you not noticed the sexual chemistry you guys have got going on? You make _me _hot and bothered just being in your presence."

"Well, whatever. He's a man, I'm a woman, it happens. That doesn't mean I'm acting on it. Ever. I have Jason."

"I don't mean to be insensitive Evie, but you're going to drop off the face of the Earth for the next year. What if Jason moves on while you're remaining faithful as ever?"

"I'm going to call him, explain-"

"How? 'Oh hey there honey I'm just going to be the possession of the king of Hell for a year but don't worry it's not at ALL sexual and my legs are practically padlocked together'? Sorry Evie, but this whole situation screams SEX SLAVE. That's even if Jason believes you."

"I'll make something up..."

Chris looked even more disbelieving. "Riiiight. Yes, he's totally going to believe that you have upped and gone on a year long holiday to all points nowhere on a whim. Personally I think you should just call it a day, Evie. Sorry, but he'll move on."

"He wouldn't." She argued hotly. "Because we just got _engaged_." A lie, but Chris didn't have to know. She was sick of his tone when talking about Jason.

He smiled hesitantly "Oh. I see. Well, congratulations."

_Yes, you look thrilled Chris. Honestly, couldn't you at least PRETEND to be happy for me. I never asked you to be Jason's best friend, but you could at least be civil._

"Look, Evie, I'm sorry it's just a little uncomfortable with him. I've had too many religious fanatics being all standoffish because of my lifestyle."

"Stereotyping works two ways Chris. Ever occur to you that _you_ are being unfair on _him_?"

"I guess. Sorry," Chris sighed, holding out his arms for a hug and wiggling his fingers invitingly. She relented, stepping into the embrace and relaxing into the toasty warmth of his arms.

"It's okay." She muttered into his chest, before poking him in the stomach. "Shall we have a look at these pretentious scribblings then?"

"Are you mocking the artistically enlightened?"

"I'm mocking the people who actually buy these things. Especially abstract art. I could be an abstract artist if I wanted. You just jumble random lines and colours together and pretend it's meaningful. I'm an artistic genius."

"No Evie, you're just unrefined." Chris joked before gaping, slack jawed at one of the display cases. "Oh fuck me sideways on toast. With bells on and flashing lights. _Do you know what that- Evangeline!_" The ending sentence was a squeak as he forgot to breathe.

Evangeline, personally couldn't see the fuss. All it was was a bejewelled egg, in a small chariot being pulled by a miniature cherub. It was gaudy, but beautiful in a way.

"It's a Fabergé egg! One of the lost imperial Fabergé eggs and THERE'S ANOTHER ONE!"

"Yeah, there's six, Crowley has one of them in his study-"

Chris looked like he was torn between screaming and fainting in joy. "Evangeline...These are priceless. There's been eight missing since the Russian revolution, they were the property of the imperial family."

Evangeline sobered, her gaze sweeping the room once again. She'd assumed these things were bought expensively at auction. She hadn't even known that those tacky looking things were real Fabergé eggs. Looking at it with fresh eyes, she was inexplicably..._angry_. The last Tsar of Russia and his family had been executed when they were in captivity. Defenceless people whose bodies had been buried away in secret for years and Crowley had cashed in. How many of these works of art were stolen? How much blood tainted these artefacts?

"Do you recognise the portraits?" She asked quietly, seething.

"I recognise the style of most, I think. That one's Raphael, that one is clearly Picasso because I _hate_ his style and that picture is fugly-"

Evangeline let him continue, bringing out her phone and searching the internet quickly. It took her about five seconds after typing in "Stolen Artwork" to recognise some of the portraits. _You absolute dick Crowley._

"Evie!"

_What now? _Evie wondered sourly _The Koh-i-Noor? The ark of the covenant – Actually scratch that, we've got that one._

"This casket..." Chris trailed off, pale faced. Evangeline looked inside and swallowed thickly. _Oh Hell no..._

* * *

Crowley resisted the impulse to look up when he felt someone arrive. He'd known she'd arrive sometime soon - vultures always did.

"Something you need Marquess?" He finally spared her a glance, leaning back in his chair.

No one could deny that she was gorgeous, physically stunning in every way. She was wearing a blonde today, curly masses of hair trailing over perfect tanned skin so that her breasts just about peeked through. She was naked, he realised with something bordering on amusement. She really was brazen. It had been so much more fun when she wasn't so desperate.

"Why you of course, since your little wife is now out." The Marquess tossed her hair, walking towards him in a slinky fashion, rolling her hips enticingly. It just made him even more disdainful, but he'd play along. Funny, he hadn't heard Evangeline walk past towards the front door. She must have snuck out. Little minx, he'd allow her half an hour before sending out her guard.

"Her being here or not makes no difference. I'm married now, so there will be no need for you to keep coming here."

"You weren't so concerned the last few months. How long have you been dating this girl anyway? Because we've been together-"

"Together? We've been having sex if and when I feel like it. Don't make it more than it was."

"Ah so this girl is your _true love_. Excuse me while I vomit. You can't seriously be considering monogamy. The Crowley I know would rather drink a pint of holy water."

_Know me? You've been sleeping with me ever since I became king in the hope that I'll feed you a few scraps of information from my plate. _Crowley despised brown nosing, but he'd let her try and fail to seduce him because she was, after all, very attractive. She did however have a point. Why _was_ he refusing her? He shrugged mentally; he was just sick of her. There'd been many of her type over the years, increasing in frequency as his status increased. They'd always tired of not getting anything out of him first; he'd never been one to say no to random casual sex. The Marquess just suddenly seemed...boring. Her motives were see through, she was so _willing_ and it repulsed him.

"Come on Crowley. You know I would have been a better queen for you. What does a human know about Hell's workings? She'll probably murder you in your sleep, filthy hunter. If she even lives that long. Humans are so flimsy."

By this point she was sitting on the edge of the desk with her legs wide open in invitation. _How have I not found this woman unbelievably slutty before now? Actually, I've always known. I just didn't care before._

"Evangeline is perfectly safe here, or whatever place she's toddled off to. Now go find someone else to whore yourself to."

"I'll do that. By the way...I love how you've redecorated the place." She laughed derisively, disappearing. _Redecorated? What in-? Evangeline!_

* * *

Okay, she was crossing a line. A line that had definite 'warning, danger of death' signs posted all over the place. Did she care? Oh Hell no. Richie was shifting from foot to foot, looking for all the world like a guilty child hoping not to get caught out.

"Are you sure the boss said this was okay miss? I mean, I've already been demoted once. I don't want the rack-"

"Richie, I'm in charge here, understand? Didn't Crowley tell you to follow every order I gave?"

"Except ones to kill him miss. But you're stealing all his things."

"Incorrect Richie, I am performing 'the duties of an average wife' and spring cleaning."

"It's August miss." Evangeline shrugged, hefting a box in one arm. "Help me with these, would you?"

"I really don't think-"

"Sorry, did I prefix that with 'If you feel like it?'"

He picked up the box, scowling lightly. Richie was despairingly _boring_ for a demon. Cowardly, easy to persuade and so very, very dull. The only thing that kept her amused was the thought of Crowley's face when he found out. The face he made when he was frustrated was even more priceless than the precious cargo she was carrying.

She had agonised over where to take the Fabergé eggs, feeling instinctively that they should be taken back to where they came from. This feeling was only strengthened when she discovered that only 19 of the 42 known surviving imperial eggs were in Russia. Then there was the fact that 9 of those 19 were owned by a private collector. The other ten were in the Kremlin Armoury, but after browsing the internet for ideas she'd come across the hermitage museum, which was planning on opening a Fabergé section in 2014 to celebrate an anniversary of something or other. It was big and well funded enough to keep the eggs under sufficient security, plus the Hermitage was situated within the old winter palace in St. Petersburg. The eggs were going home after all, it would seem.

So that was why she found herself outside the house of Mikhail Piotrovsky, director of the Hermitage Museum, hammering down his door. She felt sorry for the brusque approach she was being forced to make, but she had limited time to be getting all these items to the relevant people. She'd already taken all of the paintings to the National Gallery in London, passing over the Louvre in favour of the National Gallery because it was smaller and would benefit more from the lost paintings. Also it was a charity and therefore admission to the National Gallery was free, whereas a person had to pay for admission to the Louvre. Call her picky, but Evangeline had always thought art and literature were something that should be available to everyone, not just those who could afford it. One of her fondest childhood memories was wandering through the National Gallery with her mother when they were passing through Trafalgar Square. The Gallery probably wouldn't be allowed to keep all of the paintings, but she remained hopeful.

A stern older man opened the door, frowning at her and spurting out a slur of what she assumed must be Russian. _Well, I am in Russia. Nice logic there Evie._

"I'm sorry, I don't speak Russian. Do you speak English at all?"

"A little." He replied slowly "Who are you? Why are you here? How did you get past the gate?"

The director lived in a townhouse with a large fence around the perimeter, so it was hardly surprising that he was a little curious how she had gotten in.

"My name is Evangeline McLeod and I'm here to give you these." She gestured half heartedly towards the six small boxes she'd placed carefully on the floor around her.

"If you have something to share, you take it to the museum's donation office. Goodnight. Do not ring again. _Сумасшедшая _" He muttered the final words scornfully, trying to close the door and finding Richie's foot planted firmly in the way.

"Open them first."

"Madam," The director hesitated as he thought of the words. "How do I know you are not bringing a bomb to my house, hmm?"

"It's not a bomb. I wouldn't blow up this gorgeous face." She thrust one of the boxes into his arms and he sighed, slitting open the sellotape sealing it shut. He plunged his hand inside, drawing out the item.

This particular egg was golden, with a single large sapphire capping the top. From there four lines of diamonds extended downwards so that the egg was split into four panels of plain gold edge with the diamonds. Piotrovsky gasped and for a second looked like he may drop the egg. When he abruptly dropped to the floor Evangeline thought for a second that he had fallen, but it was merely so that he could place the box down and drawn out the white gold chariot stand that was being pulled by a tiny cherub figure.

"This is – It cannot be. It is a fake."

"Take your time to look at it. Inside, with the others."

"Others?"

"These are all eggs," She indicated the boxes and the director looked like he had been slapped in the face. "Imperial Fabergé eggs. They have a little maker's mark."

"If this is true...how much are you wanting for them? Shall we say...$100 Million?"

"We both know they are worth more. Six of eight previously missing eggs is a significant find." "I will not take no for an answer. Name your price. I will beseech the government for money if I must. These eggs they are-"

"Priceless. Exactly. Which is why I am _giving_ them to you." For a moment the man stood dumbstruck, jaw moving and no words coming out.

"This..this is...why?"

"Because you cannot sell what you do not truly own. These eggs were stolen from Russia, I think, not sold. By a man with no respect for cultural heritage. So I am just returning them. All I ask is that when the exhibition opens, you inform me _first_ so that I might visit them to see they are safe before the exhibition opens."

"Yes, yes, Miss-?"

"Mrs. McLeod. Here is my telephone number and email address. Call me as soon as you are ready to open to the public."

"I will! Yes, thank you!" By now the director's smile had spread across his entire face as he shook her hand and enthusiastically directed Richie to take the eggs to his study. He had a safe there where he promised the eggs would be safe until they could be transported to the museum.

"Be careful, Mr. Piotrovsky. The reason I brought them directly to you was because leaving them in the hands of a lower down employee...they might get greedy. I would tell the minimum amount of people that you have these eggs, or you will be the target of thieves everywhere. I guarantee it."

She left the man to his business, hoping he was trustworthy. She suspected he was; the glitter that had appeared in his eyes upon seeing the egg was one of wonder, not of greed. _Very few men look at something beautiful and see its beauty instead of its value. _Her father's words echoed, warning her, but she was confident in the director. He seemed an honest man.

The last item was the casket. The one item that she had no idea what to do with. Well, she knew what to do with it. She just didn't know how to _explain_ it. You see, it was easy enough to explain missing paintings eventually falling into her hands, the Fabergé egg story was far fetched but could be explained away by claiming her husband's family were collectors and had accumulated them over the years. But really, how do you explain coming into possession of the lost Peking man fossils?

* * *

He was going to murder her. Crack open her skull and feed her her own brains. She'd taken _everything_. The paintings on the walls were gone. Years of work. Items he'd had to carefully hide away when he defied Lucifer. All gone. But what really took the mickey? She'd left a note behind.

_~Be back late, popped out to take care of a few things.  
__Don't wait up,  
_ _Your **loving**__wife,_ _Evangeline._

The woman was insane! Did she want him to kill her? Did _he_ want to kill her? Yes, mostly. Though the part of him that remained practical through everything did admire her efficiency in getting it out of the house undetected. Besides, she couldn't have gone far with it all could she? It had been perhaps five hours since he saw her as her family left. Maybe she could get as far as Vegas, or San Francisco. Unless she-

He teleported to the front gate, rapping on the small guard's house there. "Richie! You come out here right now you bulbous sack of inadequacy before I rip your arsehole so wide open people will think you're a FRIGGIN HERMAPHRODITE!"

After a few seconds sans Richie, Crowley smacked open the door with a slight flick of his wrist, finding the place as empty as a tramp's pocket. He clicked onto the CCTV network and sure enough, there was footage of Evangeline and Richie going back and forth out of the house with many crates, him zapping her away to God knows where and then reappearing maybe twenty minutes later to repeat the process._ When she gets back, I'm going to make her regret this. I'm going to-_

Crowley's thoughts halted. He wanted her. There was a raging tempest in him, an angry snarling beast that wanted to push her down to the ground and make her submit to him, to turn those snarky little comments she made into moans of passion. Nobody managed to push his buttons quite like her, nobody managed to frustrate him quite so much. Nobody _challenged_ him any more. Part of the reason he liked riling the Winchesters up so much was they were guaranteed to challenge him right back. Outsmarting them wasn't exactly cracking the Da Vinci Code though. But Evangeline...oh Evangeline was complex. It helped of course, that she was also completely unattainable and hated everything he was with a passion. That only added to her appeal. After all where is the joy in winning power over someone who doesn't put up a fight?

He was still brooding on Evangeline when Richie reappeared, with one slight detail conspicuously missing. Evangeline. The demon arrived alone, walking into the guard house as if everything was normal. Crowley had him against the wall within five seconds flat.

"Richie. What did I say about anymore screw ups?"

"You- Boss, what is it?"

"Do I look like a 20Q ball? WHERE. IS. MY. _WIFE_?!" Crowley punctuated his sentences by slamming the lesser demon's head back against the concrete, the thick wall starting to show a faint spider's web pattern of cracks.

"I don't know! I haven't seen her today!"

"Well call Hollywood, because there's someone giving an academy award performance of you being a brown-nosing, penny pinching, slack jawed _GOBSHITE_!"

"I never!"

"You 'ave you filthy swine don't lie! You're on camera helping my darling wife half inch all of my most valuable possessions."

"I didn't!"

"Oh yes you DID! Do you know how much a single one of those items was worth? 'Cause I'll give you a clue you berk; if you wanted to pay me back for one single item from that collection you'd be selling that sorry little arse of yours to shady old businessmen in denial about their sexuality for the rest of your existence."

"I don't know what you mean! I just went out to get coffee!" The demon was babbling now and he scowled, sensing a tiny shred of truth in the idiot's words.

"What time is it, do you think roughly?"

"10am ish? We just saw off those Strattons...Boss you okay?"

"It's 3.30 PM. Go back to your post."

Crowley left Richie standing there, thrown deep into thought. _He's lost his memory. How the Hell did she manage that one? Why would she even bother to take away the memory of someone like Richie? It's not as if he's that intellectually gifted to begin with- Ah. Of course. She doesn't want me to track down the artefacts. Bit stupid seeing as there's bound to be plenty of news reports about these things being 'rediscovered' and anonymous donors._

He resolved to let her play whatever game she was playing right now. Evangeline was undoubtedly not the type to keep her plans secret for long. She'd plot, do the big reveal, he'd dodge it and life would move on. He was admittedly wondering where she had gone to now...but he wasn't her babysitter. If she wanted to put herself in danger again, on her head be it. Besides, he'd already thought up the perfect punishment for when she got back...

* * *

A spate of accidental drownings in the past two years all in the same swimming pool nearby in Rosamond had attracted her to the case. Newspapers from just before the deaths began pulled up reports of a child going missing from that same pool, a personal plea from the child's parents that anyone with information step forwards.

Her heels were killing her, honestly. She'd been all over the place, talked to the girl's parents and some of the people who had been at the pool that day, the local police department...the girl had never been found, dead or alive. Unfortunately, Evie's gut was telling her it was the former that applied.

_The drownings were all children too._ She reminded herself, stepping into a nearby coffee shop. _So it could either be the ghost of the person who TOOK this girl or the girl herself. _

The sleazy looking man behind the counter smiled at her until he noticed the wedding ring flashing on her finger and immediately lost interest. It was strange how men had treated her completely differently throughout the day. Older men and police officials had taken one look and been much more welcoming, treating her as an equal. She'd often found before when following cases that men, especially police men, tended to look down on a female reporter and not guard their words, flirting shamelessly more often than not. Now it was different. They gave her the information, offered her coffee and stayed on topic. No ridiculous,"Would you like to come out for a ride in my patrol car?" They gave her the facts and sent her on her way. It was refreshing, yet bizarre. She hadn't truly realised how sexist and posturing men could be until they stopped being like it to her. _It's like as soon as a woman is married, she's someone else's unspoken property_, she realised uneasily.

When the man had finally prepared her tea, she took it to a window seat along with her notes, wondering what to do from here. Normally she could take however long she wanted on a case, but with the contract specifying that she had to sleep in the same bed as Crowley, she couldn't just stay in a nearby hotel until she cracked it. She needed to solve this case _today_.

Okay. Stop thinking about how little time you have, because all that does is _waste_ time. Whoever took the girl would have to have been at the pool at the time; the police had interviewed everyone at the scene. _But seriously people, why the fuck would whoever took her be hanging around still?_

The best thing she could do right now was check out the pool for herself and see what the staff said. But she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was missing something massive. Hunters were by nature pretty damn superstitious, knowing that quite often the things that go bump in the night are _not_ just the wind. That monster in your cupboard? That's real too. Honestly, she wondered about her upbringing sometimes; when one night she asked her mother to check behind the curtain because she heard noises outside her window, her mother had immediately drawn a handgun out of her belt. It had turned out to be a squirrel, but unfortunately her mother had always been of the 'shoot first, clean up the mess you made later' sort of mindset. Poor squirrel.

The pool centre was open, a few families splashing around inside. A panicked toddler flailing around, dwarfed by enormous blow up armbands made her laugh. His mother was trying to teach the little boy to swim, but he was clearly afraid to allow himself to float. The windmill motion of his arms was priceless.

_This is a nice place._ The centre was large, with several different pools of varying sizes. There was a shallow pool for small children, a wave pool, and the main pool which seemed reserved for those of a more athletic persuasion. Another pool caught her eye though. This one was connected to the outside; thin plastic flaps covered the gap in the wall in an attempt to keep the heat in. The outer pool and it's connecting inner pool was totally empty, a stark contrast to every other pool in the place.

She pretended to listen to the manager prattling on about safety and how they'd just installed new flooring out here, with rough patterns on it that meant easier grip.

"I've heard there's been some unfortunate accidents out in this centre, which pool exactly were these in?"

"All outside, some of the local people are saying the place is haunted." The manager chuckled weakly, his eyes betraying a shred of doubt.

"But that's ridiculous."

"One child died by..I'm not sure if this is correct, but by slipping on the floor and cracking her skull in five places? All at once?"

"Yes, yes though that was _after_ we installed the new flooring, she must have been running, poor thing, we do put signs up but you know how children are. She was probably racing to the water slide."

"Water slide?"

"Yes! I'll show you, right this way."

He lead her around the side of the building, down a small path to a little shack besides a staircase that spiralled upwards. A man sitting half in and half out of the shack nodded to them before turning back to his monitor. A small queue of children had formed at the bottom of the stairs and as she watched the man gave one of them the thumbs up and the child ran gleefully up the stairs.

"Alan here watches to make sure they come out of the other end before sending up another child. So we don't get five of them going down at once or anything dangerous like that."

"That's a good idea," Evie said absently, looking around. _Isolated. Out of view of the outer pool and the inner pool. The car park is just around the corner. Someone could easily smuggle a child away from here if they wanted to. I think I'll have a chat with Alan._

"Where does the water slide empty out into?"

"The outer pool."

"Huh. So anyone sitting outside would immediately see someone coming out of the tube?"

"Yes, we thought it would be nice for parents to be able to wave to their children as they came down."

Evie nodded, holding her hand out for the man to shake "Thank you for showing me around, I'll be in touch."

"We're grateful to have made the list of ten best day out destinations. After all these accidents..."

"Just bad luck, you have a great place here. Accidents happen. I'll send you a copy of the article." She smiled and walked away over to Alan, twisting her wedding ring surreptitiously off of her finger. What? Sometimes a little flirting did actually help an investigation.

"Hello there, you must be Alan. I'm Kelly."

"You're English?" _Oh no shit sherlock._ He raised an eyebrow, not so subtly looking her up and down "That's a nice accent, where in England?"

"London, though my family are from the Cornwall area."

"Oh, okay." _You don't know where that is do you? Twerp._

"So when do you finish work?"

"Four PM sharp." He grinned and she flicked her notebook shut. _The approximate time the little girl went missing. Her absence was noticed at 5.30 when her mother decided it was time to go get something to eat. She was last seen playing in the outer pool. Right around the corner from here._

"Bet the kids are disappointed when you close off the slide huh?"

"Yeah, there's always upset when it happens. I get a lot of 'please just once more!'"

"Mmm. That camera, it doesn't record does it? It's just a live feed?"

"Yes," His smile was fading a little as he started to realise she might not be that interested in him.

"Hmm. So how about dinner tonight? 8 PM at that Italian place a couple of blocks down?"

"I'd love to!" He ran one hand through dirty black hair.

She gave him one last fake smile before heading back around to the front of the building. If he was innocent, then what she just did was very very cruel. Being stood up is horrible, but she needed to guarantee that he'd be out of the house. She just hoped he was the type of guy that would wait hopefully for a long while and give her more time.

* * *

The small house was silent and dark around her. She'd done a bit of fence hopping to get to his back door then picked the lock. Front entrances were too conspicuous. She'd tied her hair back into a bun and donned gloves for the occasion, her clothes a shade of dark grey that blended in with the shadows just enough to make her more difficult to spot. The method was coming back to her, had never truly left her mind. This was what she had been prepared for; despite her father's attempts to change it, this was what she loved.

The bedroom is always the first place you look. She turned on the light, since this room was at the back of the house and not visible from the street. If Mr. Creepy returned suddenly she could just hit the switch quickly and he'd be none the wiser. It would make searching faster too. His room was neat, almost military. A quick glance in the wardrobe revealed nothing but clothes, some shoes at the bottom and a fireproof box with a lock. She cast a reveal spell, stumbling once over the words and having to recast it, frustrated. The lid of the box cleared so that she could see inside. Passport, legal documents – she shook the box to make sure there was nothing hiding underneath but there wasn't.

Under the bed there was nothing but an odd sock and dust. Nothing beneath the mattress. Nothing hidden in the backs of drawers or behind the chest of drawers. When humans hide things, there's a natural instinct to bury them somewhere close and easily defensible. You check the bedroom first because that's the most personal room in the house. Guests don't go into the bedroom, only you do. It's the natural place to put something you don't want others to see. But looking at Alan's bedroom, she knew he wouldn't fall into this category of people. The place was so _organised_. She had no doubt that he would not want to bring any incriminating evidence into this room. This was his sanctuary. _No. It isn't. Look with your head, your eyes are lying._

The bed cover was totally flat, corners folded so precisely that it looked as if he'd taken an iron to them. The clothes in the wardrobe were all the same. Multiple versions of the same thing. She went into the bathroom. Toothbrush, toothpaste together in a cup on the windowsill. But under closer inspection, the toothbrush had never been used. Yet she recalled him having pearly white teeth. The shampoo bottle was exactly half empty, as was the conditioner. She dashed downstairs on light footsteps, the brainwave crashing over her. _You idiot Evangeline. This isn't a ghost case. _When she opened the kitchen cupboards everything was uniform, exactly as expected. Just the right amount of cereal to fit in the cupboard, but none of the boxes opened. Keeping up appearances.

The fridge confirmed it though. There were no less than seven cucumbers in the fridge. _Fuck. Fuck and fuck again-_

There was the sound of the key in the lock. She hurriedly switched off her torch and crept away from the hall, feeling her way slowly. _I left the light on upstairs in his room. I left it on. I'm an idiot. More specifically a dead idiot. He's a kappa. But there's no river around here! _The last thought was more indignant than anything else as she hurriedly ticked through what they were vulnerable to. Iron and ginger. She had an iron knife but she didn't exactly carry ginger around with her on the off chance. These guys lived in rivers! What was he doing? Kappas were from Japan for Christ's sake!

She heard his footsteps going upstairs and crossed to the back door, easing it open. His footsteps stopped and she froze. He'd seen the light. All of a sudden his footsteps were thundering back down the stairs. She abandoned the door, twisting to face the entrance to the kitchen, drawing her iron knife in her right hand and readying the torch in her left.

A dark shadow appeared in the doorway, hurtling towards her. She waited until he was almost on her before switching on the light suddenly. In the sudden light his face was a Halloween mask of dagger like teeth and yellow slitted eyes. She stabbed with the knife, feeling it sink home as he threw his hands up to protect his sensitive eyes from the sudden brightness. She drew the knife out and the creature backed off, prowling around her.

"You're the one causing the accidents aren't you? The first child's disappearance was too public. I saw in the police reports that you were a main suspect. But why kill more?"

"Because they're so _tasty_. They were all watching like hawks after the first girl, yes, but nobody watches a fresh grave." _Okay that's just ew. Graverobbing?_

"How can you be here? Why are you not in Japan?"

"Japan...phah. So skinny. Healthiest people in the world. An American child can last me a whole week. The first little girl lived for three days. _So _funny. But her crying got annoying. Soon that won't be a problem, I am told. Free grazing for all. Fresh meat is always best." He displayed his fangs again in a wide smile. "There used to be a creek here you know? The water is still there, in places just under the surface."

Evangeline nodded, tightening her grip on the torch. They both knew what she was about to do next.

Keeping a good hold on her knife, Evie bowed deeply.

* * *

By now, Crowley was legitimately...not worried, but _interested_ in where Evangeline was. Mainly because Evangeline was now showing a greater aptitude for causing trouble than he had expected her to have.

In his study, he pored over maps, stolen emails and newspaper clippings. Dick Roman was certainly not a man to shy away from the spotlight. The Leviathans had only been out for two weeks, yet already Richard Roman Enterprises was going public with new ideas, buying out various subsidiaries. Crowley ground his teeth, wondering what Roman's game was. There was no pattern to the acquisitions. No _reason_, but there must be...

Evangeline slammed through the door, smiling widely. Her shirt was splattered with a greenish black substance and her hair drawn back into a high ponytail. For some reason, the hairstyle made her look impish, especially when coupled with the sparkling mirth in her eyes.

"Hey Crowley. How was your day?"

"Wonderful, actually." He deliberately made his tone as easy going as possible, despite the fact that he wanted to scream at her. _Little pause, let her start to feel uneasy._ "I've been thinking..."

"A feat which surprises us all." Evangeline added, sliding down deep into her chair. What she probably didn't realise was that at this angle he could see ever through her thin top as the light shone through it. She was wearing a bright red bra; satin, he noted with approval.

"I was thinking...Tuscan." He smiled blandly, inwardly crowing at her blank expression. "For the new decorating style. Why not Tuscan?"

"Erm, what?" Evie stumbled out, forehead creasing as she frowned "But-"

"Well, we're halfway there now that you've cleared out the clutter – thank you for that by the way, so have a think about what style you'd like to redecorate in." The lie tripped off his tongue easily. The best vengeance on her, he had realised, was to pretend he didn't care. She had gone to great efforts to rile him up. Now he was going to rile _her_ up. From the narrowing of her eyes, he knew she suspected what he was doing.

"How about contemporary? Modern art, get rid of all that outdated crap you call furniture."

"If you like." He hated modern art.

"I really like art deco," She challenged. He liked that load of bollocks even less, but he smiled.

"Do whatever you like."

"Oh, I will." Snarled Evie, getting up and jabbing a finger into his chest "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. You're just pretending you don't care to annoy me, well, it's not working!"

"Said she, with a petulant scream." He countered, watching her go pale purple with suppressed anger.

"You want to know something funny Crowley?"

"Go ahead."

"I'm seriously wet." She stated boldly and he almost choked on his tongue, giving her a long once over. Her pink lips were slightly parted as she breathed, deep and slow breaths making her chest swell. Slender hands resting on her hips reached out to him as she drew him closer, one hand resting on his chest and the other circling around the back of his neck.

Chest to chest as she pressed her fingers into his hair, Crowley resolved to stay as still as possible, praying that she didn't wake up from whatever madness she'd slipped into. Evangeline's hand curled into a fist around his shirt and in his hair, pulling his face down as she rose up onto the tips of her toes, hips rolling into his with a firm jolt as she supported leant against him fully. Still he waited for her to kiss him, or say it. Say that she wanted him.

"_But what's really funny Crowley" _She whispered, teeth nipping at his earlobe and drawing out a soft noise that he had tried to suppress, _"Is that you can't touch me without my permission. Something I'm NEVER going to give."_

Then just like that her hands were gone and she was stepping away, eyes fixed smugly upon the bulge in his trousers. In that moment she looked uncannily like a demon as she chuckled gleefully. "Oh dear Crowley. All wound up for nothing."

He cleared his throat, the reply coming out huskier than usual."If you say yes...I'll let you go." _Now where the hell did that come from? _"I know it's what you want."

"Tempting I'll admit. But I'm not a whore and I prefer watching you squirm. In fact I think I just found my new pastime." Evangeline stepped forwards again so she was flush to his body and he leant back, trying to escape the delicious friction and failing. Why had he put that clause into the contract? His hips were twitching with the urge to press forwards into her, but he couldn't even do that. He could not touch her in any sexual way. He could only kiss her when the pretence of being married required it, or if she was willing. But there was nothing to restrict her.

"We have a _whole year_ ahead of us Crowley. So how about this for a deal?"

Her hand snaked forward and clamped down on his arousal through the cloth of his trousers without any warning. He swore profusely in every language he knew, willing her to move her hand but she didn't. She just stood there smiling that beautiful - _irritating! - _smile like a cat that had gotten an entire barrel of luscious white cream. _Don't think about cream now mate, do NOT think about cream._

"You let me go and you get to not be sexually frustrated every single day for the foreseeable future."

"Think you're special?" He panted, before collecting his wits and continuing in an approximation of his normal voice. "I can easily go sleep with someone else. Someone with really..." His face contorted into a mask of pleasure as she shifted her hand slightly, cupping his chin with her other hand and drawing it up so he looked her in the eye.

"Big tits? No gag reflex?" She suggested coldly. "Someone who begs for more and then afterwards casually tries to see if there'll be a next time so they can do a little gold-digging?" The smile was back "Go ahead and try it. I think we both know that only lasts right up until you see me again."

"You're certainly very confident of your charms."

"I didn't know you were attracted to me at all until you reacted so eagerly." _Dammit._

"Well, since this is an evening of negotiations it would seem...how about _this _deal. You finish me off-"

"Not happening-"

"-And you can visit your boyfriend."

Now she was hesitating, actually considering the offer. Her hand moved again as she shifted her stance, a lightning flash of pleasure shooting up his spine. _Jesus Christ if she moves that hand again I'll be needing a new set of pants._

Eventually she shook her head, delivering a half heartedly slap to his arse. "Nice try but no cigar." She walked away, just like that, leaving him standing there wanting and _needing_.

"Cocktease." He shot after her.

"Pervy old man." She shot back, shaking her hair out of its ponytail as she walked. The last thing he saw of her before she left the room was the sight of her bum wiggling mockingly at him with every long stride she took.

Sinking into his chair, he attempted to turn his mind back to the documents on his desk and failed. He reached for a book and was going to distract himself with that until he realised it was the '_Greek Tales of the Underworld_'. Suddenly his mind shot straight back to Evie, upstairs by now no doubt.

His mind wandered. Was she in the bedroom? Peeling off her clothes in the light of the moon? Or having her regular evening shower? Was there water pouring down her skin in a hundred tiny rivers, sliding down the valley between her breasts, over the tiny crests of her nipples and swooping down between her legs?

He hadn't realised he was touching himself at first, lightly through the fabric of his clothes just as she had done only moments before. _Might as well get it over with._ He undid his zip, reaching past his underwear and drawing himself out, moaning as cold air hit the heated flesh of his dick. _So sensitive_, he realised, trying to remember the last time he'd been this badly aroused. Even sex loses a little bit of the pleasure when you've done it so many times, but now... A single touch made him see stars but he forced himself to breathe slowly, easing his hand into a steady rhythm as he stroked himself, reaching vainly for a release that felt so damnably close but at the same time refused to come.

_Evangeline, stepping out of the shower and slowly drawing a towel down to dry herself, rubbing over a toned stomach and hardened nipples. Evangeline, laying back down in the bed that they shared upstairs and drawing him down on top of her. Evangeline, screaming his name as she climaxed. Evangeline, Evangeline, Evange-_

"-Line!" He grunted, warm fluid coating his hand as the feeling of shattering passed through every single nerve of his body at once, the feeling of nothing and everything consuming every other thought and replacing them with a peace beyond words. He sprawled in his chair, dumbfounded by the intensity of the orgasm. The first cohesive thought he managed to form was that he was certain of one thing; until he slept with Evie, everyone else was going to pale in comparison.

The second cohesive thought was that from now he was going to do everything he could to seduce her.

* * *

Evangeline closed the bathroom door behind her, locking it with trembling fingers. For a long time, or maybe even just a few seconds, she leant against the cool surface in an attempt to get rid of the flush that she could feel all across her skin. Her clothes were chafing, but she didn't dare remove them. Every light drag of fabric on skin made her want to weep, so taking off her clothes was impossible when it would involve firmer scrapes against her already inflamed body.

_Jesus Christ and all his apostles, when did it start? She had been lying to him when she said she was wet. But then his eyes had suddenly turned scorching and she'd felt her core shiver with newfound heat. Then she had touched him and the heat had only spread and spread. The moment where they had stood there, her touching him and him just looking at her, had resonated right through her mind and body, quickening her heart and robbing her breath. She wanted him to break the rules right there, to pick her up and slam her onto that expensive wooden desk-_

"This is not helping." Evie muttered to herself, stepping away to look in the mirror. She was bright, poster paint red as if she'd contracted a fever. She certainly _felt_ like it. A feeling niggled within, whispering softly in her mind. _You could always...take care of it yourself._

Definitely time to wake up and get back to Earth. She ripped her shirt over her head, snapping the bra off and wiggling out of the jeans until she was naked except for a pair of thin panties. _Oh Hell, _she thought after running one finger beneath the material to test just how much her body had reacted to Crowley. The answering twinge of pleasure and the slickness beneath her fingers had confirmed what she'd already known. Still she refused to admit it, washing her hand in disgust and snatching her clothes off of the floor. She dressed for bed, scowling mulishly at the wall, putting the thought from her mind.

_There's just these guys, you know the type, that you can't help reacting to. It only takes a look and you're melting...Then there's the guys who you grow to be attracted to, that can manage the same as the first type after a while. _ A co-worker's words one coffee break. In her foundational years she'd often sought to fit in with the nurses on the ward, who seemed to have their own little group amongst the staff. They had been kind enough to her, but there was always the small tension when they would complain about their 'superiors' the doctors. There'd always be a look shot her way, as if to check they weren't overstepping a line and Evangeline hated that. At the time she'd agreed with the statement, nodding along with the others because she thought she'd understood. Looking back, she'd been an idiot.

She'd thought that what she had with Jason was the first type. But it wasn't and it pained her to admit it, because Jason had been her first. She'd never gone further than the first date before him, because before him she couldn't expect to live much older than thirty. Others had tried, had rung her up asking about meeting up again, but she'd gently declined. She'd not really been that bothered about the whole thing until she reached 22 and everyone else was talking about it except her. By then though she was too embarrassed to try a one night stand, thinking that as soon as whoever it was found out she was a virgin, they'd be reluctant to actually go ahead. Men often had weird little bouts of chivalry like that. It had occurred to her that in that situation she could just climb on top of the guy and make him, but that was kind of...rapey?

Either way, she was now coming to realise that what she had with Jason was the second type. Furthermore, whatever twisted up thing was going on with Crowley...it was definitely the first type.

Evangeline's fingers traced the edge of her sleeping shorts, the thought from earlier reoccurring. She'd never actually self pleasured. People's jaws always dropped if she told them, but she just...hadn't. Strange perhaps, but the idea had never appealed to her before her first time. After that she'd had Jason to satisfy any desires. Now she had no Jason and a fierce arousal. Damn. Well, it wasn't cheating, was it? He could hardly get jealous of her hand and, well, needs must.

She slid her hands down slowly, stopped. _Forget it, I can't do this. Not over CROWLEY_ She huffed and scrambled under the bed covers. It wasn't late at all, but she planned on getting out of the house early. Away from Crowley and off to another job. It made her happy to remember the successful job earlier. Even if she'd nearly died.

Kappas had this strange thing, like leprechauns and salt, where if someone bowed to them they had to return it. It had tried to bow quickly before springing back up, but she was faster and had stabbed it straight through the heart before it could kill her. She was proud of that; the cleanness of the kill. Evil, child eating thing that it was, she had no desire to prolong its death. If you started going down that route you ended up...well, just look at Simon.

The next thing, she decided, was to find the Winchesters and the best way to do that was to break into the circuit. Do enough jobs eventually you'll run into a fellow hunter and if these boys were as famous amongst American hunters as Crowley had made out whoever she ran into was bound to know how to contact them. Though it did niggle at her, what the Kappa had said. _"Free grazing for all"_

* * *

_His hands were everywhere and nothing else existed in the world except his fingers as they dug into her thigh and his tongue as it ran languorously over her clit before drawing a swift swipe down that made her keen, shifting her legs together in an unconscious attempt to draw him nearer, or maybe to force him away, because this felt too good, much too good. He pressed his hands down firmer, keeping her legs open as his teeth dove down and nipped lightly at the soft bud, guzzling it like a child would a sweet._

"_Stop- don't stop, oh God." She made no sense. Nothing made sense but the feeling of his tongue diving into her and his beard scratching the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. His touch moved abruptly upwards to her hips as he rose up from where he'd been kneeling beside the bed and pulled her roughly down so that she was beneath him. She almost hit him for stopping, but he was quick to replace that talented tongue with two broad fingers that thrust inside her without warning, sending powerful shivers through her when he moved them **just so**_**, **_hitting a place in her she'd never known existed. Somewhere her inner physician remarked that he must have found her G spot but was drowned out by the howling beast that was her instincts, which had absolutely no interest in this development other than it felt **good**. Her hand faltered between them as the sensation dazed her, before resuming its course and grabbing the shoulder of the arm whose fingers were teasing her so mercilessly hard enough to bruise, which he only chuckled at infuriatingly. Suddenly the fingers within her sped up, increasing the force of their thrusts. If she had thought he was giving all he had before, she had been woefully wrong. He'd been holding back. Now he had her writhing fervently across the sheets, feeling the silk sticking to her skin and only heightening her frenzy. She was babbling incoherently, hands pushing at his shoulders in earnest now. Some deep part of her was panicking, running desperately from the tidal wave that he was evoking within, running and running yet somehow _needing_ it to overtake her._

"_Mon dieu, Jésus... baise-moi! oh GOD!" He smirked against the skin of her shoulder, biting down harshly on one nipple before raising his face back to her level. She strained to see his face in the darkness, clutching his cheek with one hand whilst her other alternated between tearing at the sheets and scraping at his back, his arse; any and every part of him that she could reach. He smelt like expensive liquor, like burnt wood and when he kissed her she balked when she tasted both of them on his tongue. Her own saltiness mixed with his taste of coffee and scotch shouldn't have been so erotic, yet after the initial shock she found herself sucking his tongue into her own mouth in pursuit of more._

_The part of her running from the wave of her desire was tired and she resolved to let go; but not before he did too. She curled one hand down towards his straining erection, driven to touch him and make _him_ cry out. But he just grabbed her hands with one of his larger ones and pinned them above her head, ignoring her cries of protest and the way she bucked her body in an attempt to throw him off._

"_This time YOU aren't allowed to touch." The sound of a cockney accent, lower and thicker than its usual rasp pushed her over the edge._

_Her fingers clenched, flexed, her limbs trembled and her mind emptied completely. She didn't even realise she was moaning until she heard him chuckling.__"Oh God...my God." He laughed even harder at that one._

_There was the soft feeling of his fingers sliding out of her as he leant back to survey his work. He was thrown into the harsh light of a streetlamp and she could finally see the smooth chest, the amusement in the hazel eyes and the chaotic sex hair that he rumpled further with one hand, staring down at her body in a way that made her squirm in all the right ways._

"_Not quite, luv." Crowley said, pearly teeth flashing in a smile._

* * *

Evangeline snapped upright, leaving the dream behind instantly. What she couldn't leave behind was the undeniable wetness between her legs, the panting breaths, the flushed sweaty skin and the thought _Why?_

Why in the name of all things holy had she just had the most intense sex dream she'd ever had...over Crowley? She rarely had them. Even as a teenager. Even when she did they were always...

"Vague." She muttered to herself, recalling the blurred images that were more sensation than actual solid matter. She'd never had a dream like that were the person was someone she knew. Usually they were an amalgamation of several Hollywood actors, an attractive stranger. Or she didn't see their face at all.

For the first time Evangeline registered that it was early in the morning and Crowley was in bed with her, lying on one side with his back facing her. _ Oh Christ is he awake? Jason told me once that I talk in my sleep. Oh Hell. Did I- Could I have just?_

Crowley rolled over onto his back with a snore. Usually she would maybe question whether he was faking or not – but that snore was NOT fake. It started with a soft whooshing sigh followed by a CRRKSH and finally a noise that sounded exactly how she imagined an elephant would sound if it was blowing its nose. _My sexy sexy husband indeed._

The laughter burst out before she even realised and, once out, she couldn't find a way to stop it. She nearly choked on the hand she stuffed into her mouth to stifle the noise, yet still Crowley stirred in his sleep, muttering something that sounded like a woman's name, though the words 'fuck off' also featured in the slur of words. One eye slowly half opened and glared with her, but none of his usual fire was behind it.

"Woman. I am _SLEEPING._"

"Really husband? Looks rather like you're _talking._"

"Should get your eyes checked."

"Should get your throat checked." He raised an eyebrow, but even that action seemed resigned. "What?"

"Because you're snoring for England as it is," She choked out, doubling over with another hoot of laughter.

"Ah but I don't snore. I exhale with emphasis," Crowley informed her, settling back onto the pillow with a thud and closing the eye he'd opened. "Go to sleep. You're depriving yourself of some delicious dreams of me."

She spluttered. "What? How did you..?" His eyes snapped open, fixing on her face with a slow smile. Faster than she could think, he was propped up on one elbow to face her with the biggest shit eating grin she'd ever seen.

"So you _DO _dream about me?"

Evangeline's mouth dropped open, jaw working furiously for something to say. _Oh my God he was joking and I thought he was being serious and now he knows that I've been having creepy graphic sex dreams about him and he's still smiling and leaning closer and-_

She put her hand firmly over his mouth, ignoring the tingle that leapt up from the feeling of his lips on her skin. "Of course. Usually they involve a chainsaw and you chained to a steel lab bench. Now _THAT'S _a delicious notion."

"Really? Never knew you were so kinky Evangeline." _Stop twisting my words! _She screamed mentally, jumping out of the bed and walking to the wardrobe that held her clothes. "Shy about it are we? Don't worry, I'm sure after the first round you'll find the courage to ask me if we can experiment. You'll find I'm very indulgent when pretty women want to experiment with me."

"Like you were yesterday? Who was that you were sleeping with anyway?" That seemed to genuinely throw him off, making him frown.

"Yesterday...yesterday...Ah! You mean after our little meeting in the dining room. I had a friend around. Though I do wonder how _you _knew. Listening at the door were you?" His gaze turned even more heated. "Did you watch through the keyhole?"

Evangeline scoffed. "Who you sleep with doesn't bother me. You could have been having an orgy with the whole world for all I care."

"Well then why did you ask?"

"Is she Bridie?" Evangeline prompted, ignoring his previous question and trying to act like she hadn't been avoiding it. It worked, albeit not in the way she'd hoped.

Crowley's face turned to marble, frozen in a grimace. He was rigid as a board, totally silent for a heartbeat of time. Just a heartbeat, but long enough for the atmosphere to go from light bickering / flirting to DO NOT GO THERE.

"No." He said firmly and despite the fact that she was clearly going to get a flippant answer in response, Evangeline had to ask.

"Who is Brid-"

"Nobody you know. Why are you getting dressed?" Evie thought about rolling her eyes at the blatant change of subject, but didn't force it. For now.

"It's a long drive to San Francisco."

"San Francisco?"

"There's been some strange thunderstorms over there recently, coinciding with an influx of accidental deaths."

"You're not hunting again." Crowley said brusquely and she scoffed. "I thought you promised not to anyway."

"I did. But sometimes you have to adapt to survive. These ooze monsters are big news, so best foot forward. Plus, I know how much it's going to annoy you. Especially the sleeping in motels part." His eyes, which had half closed as she talked flew open again

"Wassat?"

"Yeah, well, we have to sleep in the same room...but it doesn't specify which room. I'll call you and let you know where we're staying each night as I figure it out."

"Will you? WILL YOU?" He roared, sitting up fully and swinging his legs out of bed to face her. "WELL _EXCUSE ME_ FOR THINKING I WAS CAUSING THE SHOTS AROUND HERE-"

"You're excused." Evie put in, pulling her face into her best impression of the Cheshire cat.

"I'M NOT SLEEPING IN A FLEA RIDDEN-"

"You are. Because if you don't the contract is broken and you need the contract just as much as I do, so – get over it. Has my car arrived yet?"

"No," he snarled, running one hand through his hair. Her stomach flipped as she remembered the echo of her earlier dream. Him running his hand through hair rumpled from her hands and the sweat of their – what, _lovemaking?_ No, fucking suited the actions from her dream better, even if the word was coarse. She'd always thought the word lovemaking sounded ridiculous anyway.

"Oh _cheer up_ my love, think of it as our honeymoon – a lovely road trip around the USA, isn't it just what you wanted?" He snorted and waved a hand irritatedly as if she were a fly he wanted to swat.

"Take one of my cars and get gone. Don't bother ringing me, I'll know where you are. Just don't start crying to me when a vampire chomps off your arse and don't even _think_ of begging help off of me."

"I don't need your help."

"Sure, sure, you're a real warrior princess. Just give me a second while I don't give two shits." He paused, eyes cast to the ceiling."There, done."

Evie smiled, shaking her head and choosing to just get dressed. The wardrobe door hid her modesty sufficiently, so she didn't bother leaving the room. _Crowley really is a wise cracking dick. But I'd bet he would help me if I needed it. If it was beneficial to him. Maybe. Oh who knows? The guy's motivations are too convoluted to reason out. I wonder who Bridie was though. I'm SURE that's the name he said when he was waking up. Not exactly a common name either._

"Hey Crowley, what's your name?"

"Are you a moron? It's CROWLEY.

" "Are you being deliberately obtuse? Your REAL name."

"Why? Planning on looking me up?"

"Yes."

"Then forget it."

"Okay, have it your way. I'll just torture a few of your demons until they tell me, that'll make you popular since I'll be sure to tell them that I asked them first and the only reason I'm resorting to asking them is your stubbornness."

"Nice try. But I didn't get where I am by people liking me."

"Really? How _did_ you get where you are?"

"Well, Evangeline...Sex and charm are very powerful weapons down in Hell. And I'm very talented."

_Oh I bet you are. _Evie thought wryly. _Considering DREAM you gave me the best orgasm I've ever had. Hate to think what the real one is capable of._

"I see. You were a man whore. That explains your need to compensate. Big house, fast cars, picking a vessel with substantial junk...wow you need a psychiatrist."

"I agree. I need help. A woman who will treat me as a man instead of an object." He faked sincerity, eyes pleading with her, yet still she could see the undercurrent of mischief that indicated he was messing with her.

"Aww, my heart bleeds... For whatever poor woman you manage to convince with that line. Seriously, she's such a fool. We should shoot people like that at birth, it'd be a mercy."

"Such a humanitarian Evangeline. Don't take the Maserati."

She waved automatically as she left the room, hurrying downstairs with a bag she'd quickly packed with extra clothes and her wallet. She was smiling as she gunned the engine of the yellow Maserati and tore down the drive, resisting the urge to cheer.

* * *

**10 days later...**

Simon glanced around before crossing the road, heading over to the small house numbered 15. Hand on the gun concealed in his pocket he knocked on the door precisely three times before taking a step back and waiting on the porch. After a minute a woman's figure appeared through the distorted pane of glass on the door, the lock clicking back as she opened it wide. _Stupid, should have opened it on the chain, could be anyone at the door, damn civilian-_

"Hiya! I'm Becky." She chirped, with a short wave of the hand not leaning on the door.

"I'm aware." He stepped past her unresisting form into the hallway, removing her hand from the door and shutting it quickly. She seemed somewhat stunned, so he lead the way through and into what turned out to be her kitchen.

"You're kinda – different from Sam and Dean." He filled the kettle and put it on to boil before dumping a small bottle of holy water and a silver knife on the table. She didn't hesitate to pick it up and douse her arm in the water before making a small cut with the knife, something he approved of silently. She cleared her throat as he put them away, turning to get out the mugs. He was just rooting around for tea – she apparently only had coffee, when she cleared her throat again. Well, if she wanted to say something she'd just have to come out and say it. He was halfway through making two cups of instant coffee when she finally managed to speak.

"You have to do it too."

"I know who I am, girl. Last time I checked I don't have tentacles, red eyes or an aversion to salt. Just your average human, sorry to disappoint."

"I'm not telling you anything until you prove it."

Well, looks like someone has a spine after all. Or just righteous indignation giving the illusion of one. Either way...

He cut himself with the silver knife, poured some holy water on his hand and when she pointed to a cupboard, took a pinch of salt and _ate_ it, just to prove it irrevocably. She seemed satisfied, sniffing and folding her arms defensively.

"Well I had to check."

"I don't fault you for it." He said, pushing one mug towards her and blowing on his own coffee to cool it a little. "Now where are the books?"

"Manuscripts, be careful – They're basically just stacks of paper. Don't mess them up or you'll have Hell figuring out which page belongs where and to which book, trust me."

"Careful is my middle name. After Caleb. Are they ready to go?"

"Yes, they're in boxes. I wrote and order list too, there's post it notes sticking out of some where I think the information will be useful. Oh, and another thing-"

She dashed out of the room and came back a minute later. "I took it at a convention they came to, they didn't know." _Not at all creepy stalker like,_ Simon thought, biting down the thought as it threatened to spill out of his lips. She was well meaning, in a bright eyed adoring way that made his skin prickle.

She handed over the photo of two men, one several inches taller than the other. He noted with some amusement that they were both quite attractive. _Wonder which one is this Sam she's crazy about._

"That's Sam and the other one is Dean." _So she likes tall, worried looking men with overlong hair. To each their own._ He snorted and she was immediately defensive.

"What's the snort for? Mr I'll-Just-let-myself-in? You are so _RUDE_, do you know that? I mean, I'm a total social reject and even _I _think you have no social skills."

"Life isn't a peach, kid, get over it."

"I'm not a kid! You're what? Three years older? If that?"

"You are a child in your understanding of the world. You go around dreaming about this Sam guy who _kills_ people, do you understand that? He is a killer. _I _am a killer. But you want to be one of us, don't you Becky? It's why you collect these books, it's why you write your little stories..." He trailed off at the glassy look in her eyes. "I apologize. I just think you could be doing something better with your life than wishing you were out there risking your life."

"But I'm not any good at anything." She whispered, clasping her hands on her sides. "Trust me, this isn't something you want to be good at." _Please don't let her cry. I would rather fight a dragon with a toothpick. Crying women are just awkward._

She bit her lip then shook her head. "You're right about me wanting to learn to hunt. But you're wrong about there being something better to do. This is what I _want _to do."

He stared at her impassively "Tell me where the manuscripts are Becky and I'll be going. Evangeline shouldn't have involved you in the first place."

"Well she did and now I've changed my mind. There _is_ a cost for the manuscripts. You talked about there being a network. Well, I want to learn to hunt. In return for the manuscripts."

_And right now, I want to strangle you, but we can't both have what we want now can we you stupid girl. Woman. Whatever._ "Fine. _I_ will teach you." Her eyes flickered slightly and he laughed "What? Hoping for a good looking teacher like ol' Sammy Winchester? Tough, you're just going to have to put up with me because a hard case like you is going to need someone experienced. There's no one I trust to do it right that isn't busy with this Leviathan shit, so looks like you're stuck with me my lil' Padawan."

She looked less than thrilled.

* * *

**The next day...**

Evie swirled the drink gently before downing it, ignoring the burn of whiskey. They'd made it wrong for God's sake. How hard was it to make Irish coffee? Coffee, Irish Whiskey and a bit of sugar mixed together, then cream poured on top. It was not _rocket science_. But it was after all just a crappy little bar across from her motel, the Spokane Swan if she remembered correctly. Crowley was going to have a fit and a half that they were staying in the same place two nights running but it couldn't be avoided. Simon was late.

Surprisingly Crowley was dropping in more often than she'd expected. She'd fully been prepared for him to only be showing up at night, getting in to bed, then leaving in the morning. She should be so lucky. He'd taken to tagging along for some of the longest car rides as if to spite her. It was at times a relief to have someone to talk to, even if it was less talking and more arguing where he was concerned.

The first time he'd dropped in she'd been heading along the I-80 out of Reno listening to her Ipod through the car's speaker system. It was a mild late summer day and she was in high spirits from a successful salt and burn that had for once had no complications.

"WOAAAAAH you're a loaded gun! Ohhhh, there's nowhere to run, no one can save me – THE DAMAGE IS DONE!" She sang, pounding the steering wheel in time with the drumroll and shaking her hair back as the world outside sped by disregarded.

"Shot through the heart and YOU'RE TO BLAME! You give looooove a BAD NAME! I play my part – _AND YOU PLAY YOUR GAME! _YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME! Oh you give love..._ a bad name._"

She broke off into an air guitar as the solo began, keeping the wheel straight by squeezing it between the tops of her thighs.

"Nice wrist action." At the sudden dry comment her hands fell onto the wheel, wrenching it suddenly sideways by accident. The car swerved like a drunken sailor before she righted it. Thank God the road was fairly empty.

"Don't _DO_ that! You just nearly made me crash on a straight stretch of road!"

"Should have been holding the wheel then luv."

"Should have not turned up then, _luv._"

"But then I would have missed your enlightening performance. Whoever said anyone can sing clearly never met you."

"Oh yeah? Because you're such a bloody savant."

"I may not be a bleedin' _aficionado_," He said pronouncing the word with a tinge of pride, "but I know it ain't good music when it makes you want to tear off your ears."

She scoffed "I don't have to take this slander. Bugger off demon boy."

"I can't be slandering you because slander is when you purposefully lie about someone. This is _truth_."

"Whatever, leave me be or I'll start singing again."

"And I'll bung a cork in your mouth."

_Okay, you asked for it Crowley. Roll on Led Zeppelin._ She flicked through the songs, twisting the volume dial up as high as it went. The first few bars of 'Immigrant Song' started thumping through the car and Crowley swore, reaching out to turn it down. She grabbed his hand before it reached the dial, holding onto it hard as she opened her mouth.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-ah! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-ah!"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST-" she drowned his shouting out.

"WE COME FROM THE LAND OF THE ICE AND SNOW FROM THE MIDNIGHT SUN WHERE THE HOT SPRINGS FLOW..." he continued to scowl, swear and try to free his hand to reach for the dial as she dropped her voice low "**THE HAMMER OF THE GODS WILL DRIVE OUR SHIPS TO NEW LANDS...TO FIGHT THE HORDE, SINGING AND CRYING-"**

"SHUT UP, OR I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL BREAK YOUR FINGERS." Crowley had rather the predicament in that the only way to make her let go of his hand so he could turn the music off would be to use his demonic strength, which would almost definitely end in her injured. Something he'd sworn against in the contract. She laughed and picked the song back up as it continued.

"_ON WE SWEEP WITH THRESHING OAR, OUR ONLY GOAL WILL BE THE WESTERN SHOOOREEE!" _Evangeline screeched in falsetto, turning to glance at him in the time between verses. He looked livid, but while she was distracted he quickly used his free hand to reach across his body and slam the pause button. Just to irritate him more, she pouted.

"You. Are _the most_ IRRITATING woman I have ever had the misfortune of meeting-" "Thank you," she said with a sincere smile. He breathed heavily for a second, glaring daggers at her until finally disappearing out of the car. _1-0 to me._

The second time he'd appeared in the car she was parked on the side of the road and just about to sink her teeth into a bacon cheeseburger, licking her lips as she raised it-

"You'll get fat."

"Oh _bite me_."

He grinned lasciviously and she quirked one brow. "Not that way. Jesus go find someone else to pester."

"Ah, but I like the ones who play hard to get."

"Well, _this _one is impossible to get, comprende?"

"You'll warm up to me eventually."

"Yeah, right about the time Hell freezes over."

"I could arrange that."

"Don't."

He grinned, leaning back in his seat and lacing his fingers behind his head. "You are so easy to provoke."

She ignored him, guzzling down the burger and intending to reach for the chocolate milkshake. She loved the taste, had saved it until last -

Crowley grabbed the shake, sniffed it and downed the whole container in three gulps before putting it back in the cupholder as if nothing had happened. _Oh no he didn't. He did NOT just do that. This...This is war._

"What was that?" He glanced over at her.

"What was what? If this is a riddle I ain't got the patience-"

She pounced across the car, landing in his lap with one leg draped uncomfortably over the gear stick. His head smacked into the headrest with a crunch and he winced. _GOOD! Dirty Scottish scrounger!_ She wiggled her back leg over the gear stick and around to his side of the car while he got his bearings.

"Finally-" He purred before she cut him off by hitting him.

"YOU STUPID- IGNORANT- CHILDISH- BRAINLESS-" She punctuated her sentence with a thump to his upper chest, struggling to continue when he grabbed her hands. She freed one and delivered a ringing slap to his hand so that he released her other hand. "_Thief!_"

"You what?" He burst out, shielding himself from her onslaught of light punches.

"My drink you- you BANDIT" He laughed "You _larcenist_, you _pirate._"

"I confess, I'm a criminal. Such crimes could never be pardoned. Whatever would my dear old mum say if she could see me now. Forget being a demon. I'm a _milk thief_. SO MUCH WORSE." He broke down into laughter, hands falling onto her thighs to support himself. "You hadn't drunk it so I assumed you didn't want it."

"But I was SAVING it," she wailed, wriggling back over into her seat and huffing. "And it would be a waste of petrol to go back to town now." She twisted the engine key and an idea occurred.

"Crowley...go get me another milkshake." She batted her eyelashes at him and he gazed back unimpressed.

"No."

"Pleaaaaase, you _did_ drink the other one"

"More fool you, should have stopped me faster."

"Go get the damn milkshake Crowley." He said nothing so she decided threats might work better. "I will castrate your demon dick in your sleep unless you sally on back and get me a milkshake."

He disappeared, came back and handed it over. She took a sip, turned and spat it out of the open window. "Vanilla? _Chocolate _is what I had."

"Vanilla is what you're getting, now shut up. It's just as good."

"Yeah. For this." And with that she tugged his shirt collar open and emptied it down his chest. To say he cried out would be too vague. Crowley squealed like a girl.

"WHAT THE HELL EVANGELINE!"

"Go do your marital duty and get me a chocolate milkshake."

"The mess- This is MY car! You ruined MY SUIT"

"Of course it is. I wouldn't do this to Abigail."

"Abigail?"

"My Dad's car."

"...and he named it Abigail?"

"Don't be silly, I did." He dipped his head down to the side and squinted, looking at her like she'd just sprouted a second nose.

"Do I even want to know?"

"How should I know if you want to know? I'm nothing like you."

"No, you aren't," he replied thoughtfully and there was a soft breeze as he disappeared off. When she happened to glance around the car half an hour later, the mess had disappeared. And there was a fresh chocolate milkshake in the cup holder.

He continued to drop in at least once a day, sometimes doing nothing more than sitting next to her for a little while as he read reports, though at some points he brought a book with him. It looked like he was researching something, but whenever she tried to broach the subject he shot her down, or just left. Meanwhile she focused on her own research into Dick Roman whenever she wasn't taking care of usual jobs. She'd yet to come face to face with one again, but her luck couldn't hold for too much longer. Who knew when Dick would remember the way she'd attacked him and send a few of the boys to Crowley's place? Levi's could cut through demons like a hot knife through butter. When she'd asked Crowley about Dick he'd just shifted about in his seat and airily said that he had plans just in case. She didn't believe him.

Still, he'd mercifully dropped the subject of the hunter's bible. She was under no illusions; there was no way he'd forgotten. Just for now he was seemingly too busy with Hell and the problem the Leviathans presented. _So that's one good thing about them turning up._

_But the really, really bad thing is that the dreams haven't stopped._ Evie swallowed some more of her Irish coffee, brought back to the present by the sobering memory of the dreams she'd been plagued by. Each more vivid than the last, each exclusively featuring Crowley and not Jason. It was maddening to sit in the car with the man every day after having such intense dreams the night before. Especially since he'd taken to stripping his jacket and tie off during the long journeys and rolling up his shirt sleeves. It was ridiculous considering she had seen the man completely naked, yet she couldn't help but be distracted by him sitting there hard at work or in deep thought. Even strange little actions like him folding a letter into an envelope and licking the glue to seal it shut. The sight of his tongue swiping a firm, accurate line made her stomach roll over. It was so moist, so long, slender – he caught her eyes and she looked away, secretly watching him still through her driving mirrors. He was frowning, clearly wondering why she'd been watching him. As she watched he shrugged it off and kept on working, shuffling his papers and drinking a sip of the coffee she'd picked up for him at a gas station. Sometimes she wondered just how oblivious he was to the effect he was having on her, because surely this had to be deliberate. Or why else would she be so confused that she was even in denial that she was drowning her sorrows over him?

A man slid onto the seat next to her at the bar, smiling warmly at her before ordering two beers. His companion shot her a look up and down before getting into his seat on the other side of the man. She set to analysing them, freshening up on the deduction skills she'd learned as a child from her father. They were a little rusty from misuse.

_Okay so guy next to me..Tall, massive actually, but awkward in the way he holds himself. He almost seems to try and downsize himself, though he straightens slightly when talking to Guy number 2. Reminds me a little of a baby giraffe because of the long legged awkwardness.__Living on the road, going by the wear on his clothes. They've been washed, but cheaply going from the faint stain on the elbow that didn't quite wash out. So a laundrette most likely. Taciturn, stature suggests he keeps his distance from others. Muscled. Really muscled, going by build. Both are wearing suits but nothing like cufflinks and they aren't fancy suits judging by the cloth. So not businessmen, FBI maybe? Not too much of a long shot. Explains the travelling and the lack of ornamentation. Check for the bulge of a gun in his pocket...hm. That's strange. There's something heavy in his pocket distorting the fabric but it is the wrong shape for a gun. More like a large knife. So, what? Thugs? Federal officers don't tend to carry knives. Look at the other one._

_Well first off he checked me out. But that doesn't really mean anything other than he's a player and didn't notice my wedding ring. Or didn't care. On the road like his...partner? Reinforces the FBI theory. Fit, but nowhere near as much so as the giraffe. Probably doesn't watch his shape as much. Carrying a gun. Has noticed me looking his way._

"So are you local?" He asked with a grin.

"No, just passing through. You here on a case?" Giraffe's head snapped around to look at her in surprise.

"Case?" Mr. Player asked, smiling slightly less brightly "What do you mean?"

"I just assumed you were FBI, going by the suits." Both men visibly relaxed. _Now that's not right, because the average agent would be immediately more suspicious of someone saying something like that._

"Yeah, that's us." He paused and added "Can I get you a drink? Then you can tell us how you figured it out." He was hot, but she wasn't interested in being a notch on his bedpost. There was also the fact that he was lying about being FBI. _But I've been dreaming about being a notch on _Crowley's_ bedpost, so why would it be worse to consider this guy? He, at least, is human. Well, so far as I can tell._

"Don't think my husband would approve of that." Evangeline said, since she couldn't countenance flirting with him when she had Jason back home. The poor man was probably worried sick over her, but she still hadn't got up the stomach to call him or reply to his texts. _He probably thinks I'm floating down the Thames face down by now. _The thought made her guilty. She'd call him. Soon. But Chris had been right about one thing; she had no idea what to say when she did.

"Y-Your husband. You have a husband. That's great!" He pulled a half smile, turning to face forwards so she couldn't see his expression.

"Not really," she said without meaning to, quickly turning away to take a sip of her drink to hide the panicked face she'd just pulled. She was clearly drunker than she'd thought. Which is what comes of convincing yourself that this one wont count because it's such a tiny glass, so it's _fine_ to have one more and then another and then suddenly there's twenty empty glasses in front of you. They trick you. Especially cocktails because they often don't _taste_ that alcoholic. Then suddenly you're drop down drunk and yet _still standing_.

"Oh?" _The giraffe speaks! Adorkable. He should cut that hair though. It's even more luscious than mine, which isn't that hard, but still it's practically girly. I wish I had hair that lush.._

"Yeah, he's a real demon." She replied, pushing the empty glass away. Both men laughed and exchanged a look.

"C'mon, he can't be _that_ bad." Mr. Player again, now that he didn't feel too embarrassed at hitting on a married woman. You know, he actually looked somewhat like Jason. Or was she just inebriated and needy?

"Oh you'd be surprised. Anyway it was nice chatting with you-"

"Well if it isn't Tweedledum and Tweedledee." _Oh crap. Crowley. Please don't kill anyone in the bar. Giraffes are my favourite animal. Except maybe penguins because seriously? How can you NOT love that little waddling walk._

"Crowley!"Giraffe half gasped -_such a girl- _and both men jumped to their feet and the giraffe pulled out the knife he'd had concealed. Not just any knife either, a demon killing blade. Hunters?! _You are seriously fucking me fate, what are the chances? The first people I meet who might know the Winchesters and I'm drunk as a skunk at Christmas._

"Just let the girl and the bartender go, we don't want any trouble-"

"Dean Winchester. Looking cheerful as ever." _It's worse. They ARE the Winchesters and... I'm STILL drunk as a skunk at Christmas. _

"Shut up."

"So sharp he'd cut himself, isn't he?" Crowley addressed her with a smile, holding out his hand for her to take. She did, mainly because she didn't trust her legs. He was comfortable to lean on, shrouded in that long thick woolen coat of his and his hand was warm. In fact his whole side was warm, but she figured snuggling up with the king of Hell _might _just turn the hunters against her prematurely.

"Woah, no you can't be serious. She's with _you_?" Sam asked, gesturing with the knife. _Could_ t_ake someone's eye out with that..._

"Strange as it may seem, _some_ people can sleep with a woman without her dropping dead soon after."

"Okay, enough," Dean said, waving the gun downwards. "You just take your...wife and go."

"NO!" Evangeline blurted, finding her voice somewhere, having collected her slightly alcohol drenched wits from the back of her head. "I've been looking for you both! About the Leviathans-"

"Listen sweetheart, you probably think that 'cause you're tapping the king of Hell you're well equipped to be tangling with those things, but trust me, demons haven't got anything on the Leviathans." He waved a hand vaguely and she noticed how the barman had been slowly sneaking towards the door. "Leave it to the professionals, huh?" _SWEETHEART? WHY I OUGHTTA!_

"Oh no he didn't," Crowley murmured just loudly enough to be heard. She let go of Crowley's hand, world swimming into sharp focus as she went straight from drunk and complacent to angry and violent.

"Est-ce que vous manquer de respect envers ma famille?!" She snarled, jabbing one finger into Dean's chest. He swayed back slightly, only spurring her on. "Êtes-vous appeler ma mère une salope désemparés?"

"Do you know what she's saying?" Dean muttered sideways to his brother, who shrugged.

"Nothing good."

"Je crache sur ton professionnalisme." Without missing a beat, she picked up her earlier glass and threw it at the back of the barman's head. Sam winced a little at the shatter and thump of the man falling to the floor unconscious, looking a little more sheepish in the face of her fury than Dean, who looked completely clueless.

"Hey uh, lady could you tell us-"

"Vas faire foutre a la vache."

"Uh, Crowley?"

"In summary... fuck you." Her demon helpfully translated, moving the barman's unconscious form to the back of the room before turning to the bar with a gleam in his eyes. _Wait, HER demon?_

Evangeline snorted, rallying "You dare be calling me amateur? Boy your family just walked up on this scene, I don't care if your mum was a Campbell because you sure as Hell ain't."

"Just walked- My father trained me since I was four years old-"

"I could strip a handgun and recite four different styles of demon exorcism by that age, _salaud_. My family were the ones who taught _your_ friggin family about everything clawed, fanged and really fucking ugly. They travelled over on the Mayflower together when we sent a couple of our own over. Married in after the whole incident with the vampires on board as it happens. We own the biggest damn store of information on these things in the world, we've been around longer than your fat head can count to and we're most definitely better at it. For instance none of us ever let the _devil_ out to play with the world. So here's a clue Nancy Drew; shut the fuck up and listen to the professional when she tells you to SHUT THE _FUCK _UP! "

Dean swallowed lightly, glancing over her shoulder at Crowley "Dude your wife is a hunter? That's messed up."

"Very." Sam added, smiling at her hesitantly and making her instantly decide she preferred him to his brother. Dean was better looking, but Sam seemed shy and it just automatically made her want to snuggle him. She was a tender drunk, by rule. People were often bestowed hugs for no reason after she'd had a few glasses.

"Ah, but the roleplaying is fantastic." Crowley said with a wink. She winced and shot her 'husband' a baleful look.

"Anyway, I've been listening to the grapevine ever since I came over, not to mention wading through fangirls – Did you know people pair you two together as a _couple_."

Oh, what a picture of awkward. Dean cleared his throat, scratching his forehead with the hand holding the gun, which struck her as pretty dangerous, while Sam coughed and scratched the back of his neck. The younger Winchester then sat down carefully on his previous barstool but kept hold of his knife, dangling it from one hand between widely spread legs. _Smart boy._ Crowley, for his part, was raiding the bar. _Does he ever drink water? Just water? The only thing I've ever seen him drink that wasn't alcoholic was my milkshake. Still not figured out why he drank that anyway._

"So, now that you've all done that peacock thing where you compare how pretty your tail feathers are, do you think one of you could come up with a plan to crush Dick?" Crowley wiggled a bottle at them enticingly, looking right at home behind the bar.

Dean glanced up, snatching the bottle from Crowley and pouring himself a glass. "What, is that a metaphor? Because I'm straight, so sorry no Dick crushing for me."

"Remind me Dean, how _did_ you defeat Lucifer? Because it certainly weren't on account of your grasp of the English language. It is a _name_, short for Richard. As in Richard Roman. The billionaire party dress that our head Leviathan is swanning about in like Heidi Klum at a fashion show."

Evangeline tuned them out, walking over to the door and twisting the sign to closed and pulling down the shutters. Simon _had _said he'd definitely be here tonight, apologising for not getting here yesterday. Still, this could be better. Simon might just get along with these guys. Pigs might also fly.

"Anyway boys, my cousin was going to be here soon with some manuscripts..ah but we wont need them now. Damn he won't be happy-"

"Is this the crazy one?" Crowley set down the bottle, then pointedly moved it far from her as she came to sit next to Sam.

"You're going to have to be more specific, most of them are a few marbles short."

"The one who wanted my head on a platter."

"Again, Crowley, going to need specifics."

"The one who wanted _everyone's_ head on a platter."

"Yeah, him. Simon. I asked him to go around to Becky's place since he would scare fifty shades of crap out of Darth Vader, so no chance of her getting a crush-"

"Woah, _Becky Rosen?_" Sam rushed out, interrupted by three taps at the door. Simon entered, shaking the rain out of his hair, blinking twice at Sam and Dean before quickly closing the door.

"Simon, ah, this is Sam and Dean." His face whitened.

"Aw hell, you two better run, find a back door quick. Thank me later."

"What? What do y-" "SAM!" As one, everyone's eyes turned back to the door and the slight young woman standing in it. Becky's eyes were shining with excitement, her mouth wide open and her hands clasped to her chest. Then, as one, everyone turned _back_ to Simon, who was wincing.

"It's a..uh, it's a _long story_"

"_ARE YOU CROWLEY?!_" The woman squealed, studying the demon king with a fascination that was borderline uncomfortable.

Evie grimaced. "Start telling it. Right now."

* * *

**A/N I leave you there for now, with that massive Canon deviation because it is late. Please review, I know it's an unfortunately weak chapter since a lot of it was getting the two groups to FINALLY be together so they can kick some arse. But hey I gave you some sort of lemons? Right? Well, let's call it Lemon juice. Lemonade? And a mystery in the form of Bridie. A cyber cookie to whoever guesses her identity. Mwahaha. OH and by the way Mikhail Piotrovsky is the name of the actual director of the Russian hermitage museum, though I'm pretty sure my depiction him is totally different to real life. Hey, whatever. I doubt he's ever going to read this xD If he did he'd probably be jealous of his fictional self for getting those eggs.**

**Translations:**

_au naturel – _Naked (French)

_Сумасшедшая – _Madwoman (Russian) half inch – Pinch (Cockney Rhyming Slang) berk (ie berkshire hunt) – Cunt (Cockney Rhyming slang) Mon dieu, Jésus... baise-moi! – My god, Jesus... Fuck me!

_au naturel – _Naked (French)

_Сумасшедшая – _Madwoman (Russian)

half inch – Pinch (Cockney Rhyming Slang)

berk (ie berkshire hunt) – Cunt (Cockney Rhyming slang)

Mon dieu, Jésus... baise-moi! – My god, Jesus... Fuck me! (French)

Est-ce que vous manquer de respect envers ma famille? - Are you disrespecting my family? (French)

Êtes-vous appeler ma mère une salope désemparés? - Are you calling my mother a clueless bitch? (French)

Je crache sur ton professionnalisme – I spit on your professionalism (French)

Vas faire foutre a la vache - Go fuck a co (French)

salaud – Basterd (French)


	5. Bitch in Sheep's clothing

**A/N Hello there readers! Been a while hasn't it? I hope the revelations within this chapter will make up for it ;) BIG plot points being set up and I can't wait to hear all of your opinions. I expect this chapter will make you HATE a certain character ;)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural, though I am crazily excited for season 8!**

**Latin translated at the end, as always :) and thanks again to my beta!**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Bitch in Sheep's Clothing**

"Evie, she made me-" Simon half whined, despite his tough as nails persona managing to sound like a child being scolded. "In return for the manuscripts, I promised to train her."

"Heaven have mercy." Evie muttered whilst the Winchesters continued to have a hissed conversation that was clearly meant for their ears only. They were terrible whisperers.

"-I'm telling you man she'll do a complete Glenn Close on you."

"She's not that bad-"

"Tell that to the bunny."

"Dude, that's totally differ-"

Evie cleared her throat pointedly and they both looked up at her at the same time. _Okay, creepy. _She smiled nevertheless and turned back to Crowley who was sporting what she had almost affectionately come to call his sleazebag look. It was a sort of thinly polite smile, raised eyebrows and an underlying tone of '_I'm secretly laughing at your face_' that she'd never seen anyone else pull off quite so well.

What was embarrassing was that she couldn't tell the Winchesters the truth of her arrangement with him. She couldn't tell anyone but her family- hold on, so how had she told Becky? Filing it away for later thought, Evie smiled at Crowley sweetly. Well, they had to believe they were married. Not that it was a happy marriage. "Hey, snugglebunny?" His eyes snapped to hers and she just knew he was going to spit flames about that later; "Go get some coffee." Oh now he looked ready to commit a massacre as he struggled between telling her where to shove her coffee and looking like a happily married demon.

"Sure thing, _Pookie_." He spat with more venom than usual, disappearing. The Winchesters were trying very hard to conceal their clear mirth.

"Snuggle bunny?" Dean choked out, wiping a hand over his chin in disbelief. "Bobby won't believe that one."

Evie shrugged, figuring she may as well humiliate Crowley as much as possible. Hell, he humiliated her by making her pretend she compromised her sanity and married a demon. To hunters, nonetheless. She wanted to die a little. So really, how could she resist embarrassing him a little?

"Anyway, we need to get out of here fast to somewhere safe, because if a leviathan catches us all here together we're going to be deep fried and dipped in chilli sauce. You boys got someplace to go?"

"Nowhere we're taking you and snugglebunny." Dean chortled, picking up his glass and draining it. "It's been fun, really, but we've got to be going now-"

"You can't! I mean, you can't just throw away offers of help like that. If it's as bad as you all say it is..." Becky trailed off, going back to studiously looking at her feet.

"Dean, I hate to say it...but she has a point." Sam admitted with a light shrug "We could use extra hands."

"Oh no Sam, we are not-"

"Great. Then we can move on to the first issue; base camp. Simon, you got any ideas?"

"Well, we sold off most of the property over here except the warehouses and the necessary ones like the house in Florida, so really our best bet would be abroad."

"I don't fly." Dean stated, raising his hands defensively.

"Queen of Hell remember? I could get one of Crowley's guys to give us a lift. But I'd really rather we stayed in America, it's closer to the action."

"Also more dangerous. We could live in a house abroad and take Jacob's ladder to travel over here whenever we needed to. If not we _could_ use demons or crossroads-" at this Simon's mouth twisted- "to get back and forth."

"Woah, woah rewind." Dean's hands whirled in a quick spinning motion before he paused. "Jacob's ladder? Isn't that a toy?"

Evie and Simon glanced at each other, sharing a conferring look. Simon shook his head finally. "It doesn't matter, it's too risky. We'll stick to other methods. If flying is out then that leaves demons, crossroads and- **Si venire in Angliam, ubi maneamus?**"

"**Non domum.**" Simon scratched his head thoughtfully, "**Receptui?**"

"**Et Crowley? Venitne?**"

"**Si necesse est.**" Simon shrugged. Evie turned to the others to tell them the plan just as Sam hit his brother lightly on the arm.

"Dean, Bobby texted me-"

"Woah? He's figured out how to do that? I mean, the guy never does anything but call. From _landlines_. Talk about trapped in the 90's..."

"Well, he says he's on his way to meet up with us and to not kill anyone until he gets here. Says he wants to talk to her." Sam indicated Evie, "Before we muck things up with our, and I quote, 'stupid fat idjit heads and their direct line to our trigger finger.'"

"Singer on his way then?" Crowley asked, taking a sip from the single Styrofoam coffee mug he held as the two Winchester's suddenly tightened their slacking grip on their weapons.

"Crowley honey, I asked you to get me coffee."

"No darling you asked me to get _some _coffee. So I did. It's lovely by the way. Would you like some?"

"Oh ta-"

"The café is two blocks from here, start walking."

"Why exactly did you two get married, I mean no offence Crowley, but we always kinda figured..."

"That I like getting it up the arse?" Crowley suggested helpfully. "Oh Dean Winchester. I'm sorry to tell you, but you'll have to find someone else to replace poor dead Cas as your bum chum. I'm not a bottom. Though he _certainly was_."

"Hey, it wasn't like that-"

"No? My my you do surprise me. I'd always pegged you as the top half-"

"I am _not_ gay." Dean hissed through gritted teeth. "I like women."

"Ah the lady doth protest too much. Okay Winchester. You win, you're straight as an arrow. Just tell me this. What is your favourite TV show? Not something about a sexy, most definitely male doctor is it?"

Crowley wiggled his eyebrows at Dean, who remained coldly silent. "Thought so."

Becky giggled and Evie realised with some dismay that the fangirl was no longer looking at Sam at all. Hell no. She was practically batting her eyelashes at Crowley. Too bad he- No way. He did not just give her a look up and down. Oh that was just wrong. _I mean, he can sleep with whoever he likes but seriously...one would think he had SOME standards. Which is mean. But she is a bit rabid. Well meaning. But rabid._

"Okay boys, wrap it up." she said wearily. _Does Becky really like Crowley? I mean, maybe she has a sort of...thing for people with a bad streak. Do people really get that? Surely she realises he'd kill her sooner than he'd kiss her. _"Crowley, we were talking about safe places to set up a base. If we stay together - which we'd have to do to plan, we can't just keep on the road like this, it's too risky and if we don't settle down and plan out what we're doing or they're going to win. Easily."

"Spectacular idea. Though I'm surprised it took you that long to figure it out." Crowley smiled and raised his cup to Evie "I thought you'd be much faster."

"So, the options are staying in the country at our house in Florida, or going back to England and using one of our holdings there."

"On a last resort, there are the villas in Greece and Italy." Evie added and Simon pulled a face, clearly displeased by the suggestion. "The _last_ resort." She emphasised and he nodded.

"I thought hunters were normally...a bit poor?" Becky asked, scrunching her face in confusion.

"Times were our family were famous amongst English hunters." Simon muttered and Evie continued explaining before he said something offensive. With Simon, it was only a matter of time.

"There used to be several large hunting families in England, way back to the start of recorded history. During the middle ages we had a boom – nobody then was quite so sceptical about ghosts and demons. In remote areas people would often send for a hunter before they would a priest. By the time it had drained away we had a small fortune just from what we had been given in return for our services. Eventually all the other families died out, or married in to ours. Any of them that died childless would often leave their possessions to us and we'd reassign the house and whatever lore collection a person had to another hunter. That hunter then lives there for free, allowing them the freedom to hunt without worrying about needing to get a job. There used to be yearly meetings...but they stopped when my mother died."

"And probably won't happen again." Simon stated coldly, glaring at her reproachfully. "Not until we have a leader again."

The others were looking at them both curiously now, clearly wondering why they were so tense. Evie of course knew exactly what he was getting irritable over.

"I can't, Simon."

"Won't and can't are different concepts Evie. You know the secret and you are the _only _one who can be the head of the family."

"How juicy. A _secret_." Crowley interrupted, a familiar look playing across his features.

"I promised my father-"

"Oh and what a good job you're doing. You're already hunting again Evie, you've already broken your promise-"

"_Only _so long as these leviathan are a threat. Then I'm going back to my life."

Simon laughed, the sound echoing harshly in the silence. "Back. There is no _back_, Evie and you know it. You love this. Don't deny that you were _born_ for the hunting life. Everyone expected you to lead the family forward, even when we were growing up they said _she will be great_. Now you ruin us with your stubborn refusal to step up to the mark and take the responsibility dealt to you."

She tried not to feel too hurt as he whirled and strode out of the door, punching the wall on his way out.

"Well isn't he Prince Charming?" Dean said scornfully, shaking his head as the door slammed behind her cousin.

"Tell me about it. I just spent 12 hours in the car with him." Becky crossed her arms tightly and shivered. "Talk about bipolar. What did he mean though? About being the only one to be head of the family."

"Yes, do tell Evie." Crowley said, sidling up to her and wrapping an arm around her waist. "Your cousin was very intriguing about the whole subject."

Ignoring the heat of his body against her and the way his gaze pierced straight through her, she swallowed and turned back to Becky and the Winchesters. She'd deal with Crowley later. Damn Simon for slipping... and damn Crowley for noticing.

"It's a relic from when the family was much bigger. Although it still is massive. If you want to get technical, we're a clan. Simon and I are just from two of the three main branches, I've got loads of distant family that I've only met once, or never even met at all. Some of them are so far removed they don't even know the family's hunting origins. That happens, you know. But anyway, with the amount of property we own and need to allocate, the trust fund as well as the foreign and conservation projects, it was decided way back right at our beginnings that we would have a leader. A head honcho in every sense of the word. It would be their duty to oversee the allocation of houses to hunters, the training of new hunters, to monitor development of new techniques. It's also them only that can contact all the hunters using the mirrors...it's a very long story. But basically, there's a long boring ceremony that would make me the official head of the family, but I didn't do it because I promised my father on his deathbed never to hunt again."

"So, it's like...an abdication?" Sam asked, eyes lighting up. "So it'll pass on to someone else right?"

"Nope. It's me or nobody. No one else has ever refused it. They never expected anyone to. The spells and conditions involved specifically call for the first child. It's a bloodline thing. The only way it could have been anyone else was if I was already dead at the time of my mothers death. My father sort of filled in in the meantime. He couldn't be the recognised leader because he doesn't have the blood, he's a Stratton by marriage."

"Wouldn't your mom be a- what's your dad's surname?"

"Clairmont. But no, that's not our way. When we get married the person becomes a Stratton. Even if their legal name is different, they would be referred to by any hunters as a Stratton. We're pretty close knit."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that kind of twisted...I don't know, like saying your name takes precedence?"

"The Strattons are known... not so much in recent years, but they are _known_ to those of importance. Most demons will think twice before pissing on their parade, so to speak. So it affords a certain amount of protection." Crowley gestured expansively as he spoke. _Why is he suddenly Mr. Helpful ? We're off topic though. Oh damn of course. He wants me to keep talking about my family. _

"Anyway, that's irrelevant. The point is, we have places in England to go to, or the place in Florida-"

"Or my house." Crowley stated, to the surprise of everyone in the room.

"Why would you offer- you know what never mind. It's a bad idea anyway because they already know where you live thanks to you inviting them there for a party- yeah, really he did," she added, noticing Sam and Dean's horrified faces. "It was not a good idea, all things considered. Especially since anyone with half a brain would consider the fact that you might ally with these two after everything that happened. Plus I attacked their leader, which they won't just forget about. I was expecting them to attack the house sometime soon anyway, which is partly why I went on the road straight away. They'll certainly have someone watching the house by now. If we arrive back with the rest of the Avengers in tow they're going to descend on us in force."

"I agree with all of that. Except the Avengers part-"

"Dean, Marvel is blatantly better than DC."

"How is it? DC has Superman, Batman, Green Lantern-"

"It also has _Aquaman_." Sam replied scathingly, looking down on his older brother.

Evie left them to it, checking her phone as the two brothers bickered _much_ too heartily over the finer points of comic books. Growing up with a younger brother had allowed her only so much insight into who was who in comic books. It was weird. Normally Simon would be back from his sulk by now, or at least have sent a sullen text saying sorry.

The hairs raised on the back of her neck and she grabbed her knife from where it was tucked into a loop on the inside of her jacket, ripping the material that had been securing it in her haste as she stalked to the door, ignoring the sound of the others calling after her.

_Remember, Evie think back. He turned left out of the door. Where would he have gone from here. He'd have gone straight to the hotel or back to his car. Don't sprint now, just run and pace yourself. Ignore the others following you. Save energy, think fast. He would have been angry, just walking without bothering to look where he was going. Or at who might be following him. _

She stopped and the others caught up with her, Becky panting and flushed. "Where is the car you came in?" Evie demanded, eyes flashing around the road.

"Two blocks that way, Simon hid it in-"

_Not there. If it was closer he'd maybe sit in it and put on some thrashy music until he calmed down, but why walk all that way when the hotel is closer and you can do the same there?_

She sprinted now, her mind already chanting through the stunning spell until she could feel it wrapped around her hands like a coiled whip or a chain, pulsing in a way that only she could see and feel. The links of it were hot against her hand, fiery words diving in and out of each other.

The concierge barely had time to look up as she darted by, taking the stairs in leaps and bounds. He was in the room next to hers, she'd texted him the hotel location and that she'd hide the key in the pot plant in the corner. She scooped her hand inside as she passed, feeling rough dirt scrape through her fingers and trail to the ground as she walked, dimly conscious of the Winchesters at her back readying their weapons. _Well, at least I have backup, even if I have no idea of their capabilities or if I can trust them. _Crowley wasn't there. No doubt running wasn't his thing. He was more of the sauntering type anyway.

The door was ajar and she swept straight through taking in the empty room with the window wide open before quickly checking her corners. Nobody and no bodies. _But Simon has been here. _Pacing quickly to the window, she glanced down. _He could make that jump if there had been a car parked there. I'm betting there was and he nicked it to get away. From whoever left the door open. But if it was a leviathan they could easily have jumped after him and taken him out so why-_

"Thanks for joining me." A calm voice said and a scrawny looking guy with a pierced ear stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "The boss will be pleased; we were having real trouble finding you boys until one of us tailing her recognised you both."

"Great." Dean muttered, shooting her a dirty look. "So where's your other friend? The one tailing her" He jerked his head towards Evie, who silently thanked god that Dean was stalling the leviathan, even if he himself didn't know what she was planning.

"Going to find Crowley and her cousin. We can't have you all teaming up now can we? You monkeys may even come up with something halfway smart if you work together."

"What's your name?" Evie asked through gritted teeth, feeling the strain from holding the spell back. It burnt against her arm now and the feeling was like stretching an elastic band to its limit; if she didn't let it go soon it was going to backlash her.

"Chet."

"Okay. I'll be sure to tell Dick your name when I inform him of your failure."

"Fail-"

She raised her arm and flicked, feeling the spell lasso out from her wrist, wrapping in ponderous loops around the leviathan so that he was stunned and bound. It had a greater visible effect on Chet than it had on Dick; actually rendering him unconscious instead of just weakening him a little. Rolling down into herself for a moment, she wrapped her arms around her head and squatted, dizzied from having held it so long.

"Woah. You floored him." Dean stated, looking from her to the prone leviathan and back. "What was that?"

"An exceptionally potent spell. Well, combination of spells. He should be out for a day or so, weakened for maybe four days? Tying him up would be a good start though." She mumbled, pressing cool fingers onto her eyes in an attempt to stop them from shivering in their sockets. "Bit of a one hit wonder though that spell, takes a lot out of you."

_And there's another one in the area_, Evie thought, sickened. _Simon..._

Staggering to her feet, smiling gratefully at Sam when he caught her arm and supported her, she tightened the grip on her knife before placing it flat into her palm, not missing Sam's interested sideways glances. His own knife was a demon killing blade, judging by the engravings. But dissimilar from her own blue tinged blade, both in size and design. They weren't even made of the same metal, or perhaps they were and his had simply been treated differently during forging. His blade was a bright silver, serrated along the bottom edge and tapering to a fine point, with a handle that appeared to be made out of Rowan. It was a good versatile blade, she decided. But she still preferred hers.

Her own blade was midnight blue, darker by far than the blade Beth had lent to her. One of the later blades made by her family, it had been a wedding gift from one of her forerunners to his wife. As such it was slightly ornamental, but still decidedly lethal. The blade itself was serrated along the bottom edge, as with Sam's, but was broader with a tiny fuller running down the middle from the crossguard to the tip. The crossguard was the complex bit though; made of wrought iron with a pentagram centred over the top of the blade then two curled pieces of metal extending to either side that twisted away from her hand slightly as she held the knife. It was unnecessary really for a knife, but the black contrasted well with the dark blue metal and the pentagram provided protection. The handle was made of smooth jet stone, but covered by strands of silver that wrapped in a spiral to the clear quartz pommel, allowing for better grip whilst the heavy pommel balanced the blade. The bright stone and silver inlay were the only light parts of the blade.

Now though she was more interested in using it to find Simon, tiredly pulling on her reserves of energy, she cast the attraction spell and the knife spun about in her palm like the needle of a compass before halting.

"He's this way."

Becky tapped Evie's arm, brushing her hair back hurriedly. "I should come with you. He's my mentor. The others can put Chet into the impala."

"Can we now-" Dean muttered defensively before Sam held up a hand.

"Becky's right. We'll catch up with you."

_Yep and while you're at it you'll no doubt have the private chat you've both been itching to have about whether or not to trust us. _Evie thought bitterly, hoping they'd be quick about it. She felt too weak to stand from the combination of spellcraft and alcohol in her system, but pushed on, Becky traipsing at her side as they left the hotel, following the pointing arrow that was now her knife.

It seemed Becky had picked up on the fact that she wasn't exactly in a talkative mood, because she was silent as they traversed mostly empty streets, the sun having gone down long ago. _God I want sleep. I'd even take sleeping in the same bed as Crowley and having those awful sex dreams over this crap._

_Crowley..._She wondered, her step faltering a minute before she continued, hoping Becky hadn't noticed. But of course she did, damn her.

"Worried about Simon?" She asked sympathetically, eyes radiating innocence.

"Yeah, of course I am."

"I was wondering, why did you lie to the Winchesters about marrying Crowley? You told me you didn't want to, but acted like you did."

"I don't know how I managed to tell you the truth, honestly. The contract should have prevented it, I was only allowed to tell close family members...it should have physically stopped me from telling you."

Becky seemed to consider this before brightening; "So you don't actually like Crowley?"

"Not in the slightest." Evie confirmed, pressing her lips into a tight line and deciding she didn't like where this conversation was going.

"So he's... available?"

"He's a sadist, you realise that?" She stated bluntly, stopping. _Well, it could be true_. "Gets off on beating women. Likes cutting them up. He's a _demon_." She hesitated at Becky's horrified expression then shrugged and walked on ahead. "What did you expect?" she called back, following the path being pointed out to her. _It'll do her good. This little crush she had on him had to be stamped out before it went too far._

"I never really expected...I mean I know he can be a little violent, like with Brady where he carved that symbol on his chest, that part of the books was gross...but I never thought he _enjoyed_ it."

"All demons do, get used to it. Your problem is you're still thinking of them as book characters, still think all these things they do are fictional. If you ever want to be a hunter you've gotta snap out of that."

"Okay, I'll try." _God she's so _earnest_ about it. I wonder if I was ever like that, before the first failed job, before I first bloodied my hands. Difference I suppose is that I coped with it. I don't know if when the time comes she'll be able to._

They'd arrived back at the bar, she realised with dismay. The blinds were drawn and the door had the 'closed' sign up, just as she'd left it.

"Stay back a second while I go in, I'll tell you if it's clear." She instructed Becky, raising the knife with one hand and opening the door with the other. Her knife was pointing towards the bar, where she could just about spy Simon's knife lying next to an open bottle of Jack Daniels. She'd thought the bar was deserted until someone cleared their throat and she whirled, relaxing when it turned out to be just Crowley. _Huh. 'Just' Crowley. That's so messed up. The King of Hell is the smallest of my problems._

"Back so soon?" He inquired and she sheathed her knife, beckoning Becky into the bar.

"Nice, Crowley. You really contributed to the team effort there."

"Well, _somebody _had to be the looks." He smiled sardonically "...And the brains."

"I hope you didn't _strain_ yourself, taking on more than one role." She hissed, crossing to the bar and tossing her knife next to Simon's, noting how he hadn't cleaned his yet since it was dripping a viscous black liquid onto the bar.

"I'm a model of versatility. Your cousin is in the back, as it happens. Wiping a disturbing amount of black goo from his hands."

Becky pushed past into the back, for which Evie was grateful. Even if staying here playing verbal tennis with Crowley wasn't exactly her current deepest desire.

"I think that experience just emphasises how much we need to get the hell outta Dodge, don't you?"

"Pack the sunglasses should I?" Crowley raised his glass to her, leaning up against the stool besides her and taking a tentative sniff before holding it slightly away from him in disgust. "God your cousin has awful taste. Jack Daniels. Really..."

She snatched the glass and downed it in one, not giving a damn. It was alcoholic. It would do.

* * *

She really should have walked away as soon as she'd entered the room, but some crazy urge made her stay. Simon's back remained to her as he scrubbed furiously, the rolling of his muscles smooth and nearly hypnotising.

"Going to stand there and stare?" He asked sullenly, so suddenly that she jumped and looked away then back quickly, catching his eye in the small mirror above the sink. He was shirtless, scrubbing away at the top he'd been wearing. It had once been white but was now turning a nasty pale grey that contrasted against his raw pink fingers. "Still staring, Becky. Go stare at Sam; you'll get a much better view." He added, almost humorously.

"Um, I just came to see if you needed some help."

"Really? The fangirl is going to solve all my issues." He stated dryly, wringing out the thin material with a scowl, then flicking it hard through the air in an attempt to start it drying a little. She still couldn't draw her eyes away from his torso, feeling like all the warmth in her body had drained out through her toes. Any confidence she might have had with it.

"I thought, if you were wounded...I could maybe stitch your wounds?"

He snorted, finally turning around and she had to resist gasping, because she honestly couldn't believe it. If the scars littering his chest had been awful in the mirror, they were even worse viewed by the naked eye. The longest was ruler straight and started two inches above the top of his jeans cutting horizontally upwards over his right ribcage, the size of her hand from middle fingertip to the base of her palm. There was a small circular indent near to his heart; she'd seen an identical one on his back. It didn't take much of a brain to realise they were the entry and exit wounds from a bullet. There was a plentiful supply of pearly raised marks on his skin too, from knife slash wounds. His form itself was muscled, but less bulky than she'd always imagined Sam to be. He would have had a great body, if it weren't for the sheer amount of scars he'd accumulated.

"No need to bother, I don't care about a few scars. You shouldn't either. Because soon enough you'll have them too."

Gulping, she took as step back as he moved forwards and he hooted with laughter. "Well isn't that funny? Reconsidering are we? Now that we're starting to realise it isn't as attractive as we'd hoped?"

She turned and left, pushing the image of him and his mutilated body from her mind, even as his harsh words followed her. He was just a jerk trying to scare her off because he didn't want the bother of having to teach her. Everyone else seemed to be ignoring his attitude, so she'd do it too.

Yet still she remembered his face when she first walked in, wide eyed as he violently washed away the blood from his hands and his clothes. Her father had been a veterinarian and her experiences in his surgery had taught her two things;

How to stitch a wound.

How to recognise a cornered animal when she saw one.

* * *

Crowley, all in all, was delighted with how the evening had gone. The leviathan had actually done something useful, though it was a little disturbing that his guards hadn't alerted him to the presence of those monsters. Which probably meant his guards were now...well, being digested. He hoped so, or he'd have to go punish them and that meant leaving Evie, who was looking delicious.

_She should get drunk more often_. He mused as she chugged back the terrible liqour and ran a hand through her hair, ruffling it and parting her lips in a sigh. Her pale skin was pleasantly flushed from the combination of alcohol and exertion, breasts rising and falling rapidly beneath the navy polo shirt she was wearing. It didn't help that she'd buttoned down what few buttons the shirt had and was dragging the neckline down with one weary hand, flapping the material to cool herself down. What really didn't help were the self indulgent groans she was making.

Appreciating the show wordlessly, Crowley congratulated himself on his luck. First of all, Evie was considering heading back to England. Which he was certain was where this hunter's Bible was. Who knew what secrets he could find out while she was there? Subtly, of course; but the fact remained that she was no doubt taking him to some hide out belonging to her family. Not the legendary family home, he was sure. She wasn't stupid. But still, he had his foot firmly in the door. Now it was just a case of wiggling the rest of his body through the gap created.

Secondly, the Winchesters thought he was married to a woman that managed to look sexy whilst drenched in sweat and dressed only in casual jeans and faded purple converse trainers that in no way went with her navy shirt.

"I should mention, your car arrived."

"Abby! Is she here?"

"_It_ is parked a few streets away, I had the Maserati taken away before you do more damage to it."

Evangeline laughed, placing her hands firm against the bar and hanging her head, bending over in half with her legs spread wide open to stretch her back in complete ignorance of what that posture looked like. _Honestly, if anyone else were doing that I'd consider that invitation and slide right in, take them over the bar like that-_

"A car is meant to be loved. They're not meant to be pristine and shiny-"

"What's wrong with a shiny car?" He argued, watching her flip her body around so that she leant her elbows on the bar, lifting her hips in an arch like a cat as she closed her eyes laxly. She shrugged and finally slithered into a bar seat, facing out into the room. Knowing that was about as eloquent a reply as he'd get with her in this state, he continued on "And you had a package arrive at the house." He retrieved it from his inner pocket and dumped it on the bar besides her, gauging her reaction. Her eyes lit up rewardingly.

"Were you expecting it?" He questioned and she just nodded before holding it up to her ear and shaking it, ignoring his confused expression. She then proceeded to feel it over in a way that was almost stroking, probing the edges with her fingers. Only when she raised it to her nose to sniff it did he draw the line.

"What in the name of God do you think you're doing?"

"Savouring the present?" She said it like he was a complete moron and he rolled his eyes at her childish antics. "But don't you love guessing what's inside?"

"You don't know what it is? I thought it was something you ordered?"

"No! No, this is from Tara I'll bet. She mentioned sending something in the post, but airmail you know...takes a few weeks. Wedding present. Feels like a candlestick, I mentioned to her that I like using candles so I hope she took the hint-"

He was intrigued now, wondering who in Hell was giving her marriage presents. So he let her prod the thing for a few more minutes, watching the joy in her eyes as she peeled the over large envelope open, peeking in a little, then opening it a little more.

And paling completely.

* * *

_Oh fuck._

"What is it? Evangeline?" Crowley prompted and her mind sluggishly tried to free itself from shock. "Is it a body part?"

"_WHAT_? Ah, no, No. Just forget about it." She hurriedly folded the tiny flap she'd opened back over, willing it to stick back down. It wasn't doing it, so she just gripped it shut.

"Evangeline, what is in the-"

"Was _body part_ seriously your first thought?" She questioned, changing the subject but asking something she was also genuinely curious about. "What sort of mail do _you _normally get?"

"I'm not new to the concept of people sending visual threats; it's usually a kidney seeing as there's a spare, now please tell me what's in the-"

Becky entered the room, smiling brightly and greeting them both. Evie could have kissed her at this point, folding the bulky package envelope over a little and holding it behind her back. Crowley wasn't having it and reached around her for it until she slapped his hand away.

"Hey! Hands off! It's my business."

"What's going on with you two?"

"NOTHING!" Evie shrieked, much too high pitched and the other woman flinched. "I just ah- Give me a minute." She finally blurted, running out back towards the bathroom. "And don't follow me!" She added for Crowley's benefit.

The hallway beyond the bar was dark and she ran headlong into Simon as he came out of the bathroom, feeling his hands grab her firmly by the shoulders before he looked at her face and locked them both in the bathroom. _Oh won't people just give me privacy! For ONE MINUTE!_

"Evie, is it a leviathan? I'll brace the door you climb out the window!" He was reaching to smash it as she grabbed his bicep, shaking her head.

"We're not under attack I just...I ahh really needed a piss." His eyebrows shot up. "Seriously. I was busting."

"Ah er, I'll go then?"

"Yeah, that'd be best."

He vacated the room quickly and she locked it after him, sitting on the closed toilet lid and drawing out the package, opening it fully and looking inside.

_Nope. Definitely still a vibrator. Funny. "Is it a body part?" Well, you were CLOSE Crowley. Just this one's plastic, generously sized and battery operated. Oh and bright pink._

She was going to kill Tara for not giving her warning. Candlestick indeed. Impulse made her want to bin the thing and avoid questions, but she would be questioned more if she came back without it really. Plus, though she hated what Tara was suggesting, with her recent growing sexual frustration...she may well need it. So she put it back in the envelope, then exited the bathroom, stowing it quickly into her coat pocket when she got back to the bar. The Winchesters had caught up finally, it seemed from her quick assessment of the room. She didn't want to catch Crowley's eye though so she quickly laid out a plan and left for her car, hiding the package at the first opportunity.

* * *

Evie had them splitting up into pairs and taking all different directions out of town to rendezvous in two days at an address in Florida, the Winchesters transporting the unconscious leviathan in their boot and vowing to bring Bobby with them to the meet up spot.

He'd decided not to sleep tonight, giving up the luxury in exchange for greater safety. Evangeline hadn't been happy but had fallen asleep when he pointed out that as a demon he didn't _need_ sleep just enjoyed it and so taking shifts would be pointless. Also any generosity on his part would help build trust and her coming to trust him was key if he ever wanted to extract secrets from her.

There was another motive though, as he lay with his back against the headboard listening to her even breathing. Checking, he saw that she was fast asleep and facing away from him, as far away as she could get from his side of the double bed. She should be sleeping deeply by now, having already been under for an hour.

He transported himself outside to the car she so loved, remembering how she'd surreptitiously stashed the mysterious package in the lockable dashboard compartment. He'd already slipped the keys out of her jacket as she showered earlier on, so the lock didn't deter him. However when he opened the compartment what he first saw was the journal that had obviously been thrown in haphazardly as she drove so that the pages were open. He slid it out gingerly, avoiding the demon trap embellished on the front. If he was careful then he could read what was on it; so long as he placed it down on a surface so the trap was covered he could flip through the open pages easily.

However, as he pulled closer into the streetlight, dumping the notebook on the passenger seat, it became apparent that it was empty. Completely empty. He pulled upon his energy reserves and released them, willing any hidden writing there was to appear yet none did. There was a faint flicker of magic in response from the book but that died so fast he was certain he'd imagined it. The book was empty. What was strange though was that here and there the pages were clearly well thumbed, as if someone had been reading something on them over and over.

"Having fun dear?"

He hit his head on the roof of the car, cursing in Hebrew as Evie scooped up the package and the journal. The snap of her closing the book one handed echoed in the empty parking lot.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, rubbing his head even as the cut healed itself.

"Well, it's a strange story. You see I was woken up from an excellent dream involving a very tall, heavily muscled Swedish guy with a _gorgeous _arse... by my perimeter spells going off. I put that spell on a few things actually; like the car, my house...even that compartment there. It's just a little thing that sends an alert to me if someone opens it who isn't me. Like a low level electric shock from one of those joke buzzer things. It's irritating as Hell but harmless." She dumped the things into the boot compartment of the car, which he knew for a fact was protected from demon interference. He wouldn't be able to get to that, not now. But he had the feeling he was onto something with that notebook; the package nearly forgotten. The book had tingled his senses and he had _excellent_ senses. It's how he'd survived so long.

"What's with the empty notebook?"

"It's a sketchbook. I write down case notes in it, build up profiles, draw out what I'm thinking." She replied shortly, slamming the trunk shut aggressively.

"And it's empty...?"

"I'm eco friendly. I wipe the notes from it at the end of each case. Can we go back inside now? It's cold."

He looked at her properly and smirked, noting the clear outline of her nipples through the fabric of her tank top and the way she was shivering, standing there in just her sleeping shorts and the top. _No bra_. He noted as she folded her hands protectively over her chest, realising what he was looking at.

"Stop eyeing me up." She instructed, but there was only reproach, not anger in her voice. "It makes me feel all nasty. You're what? Two, _three_ centuries my senior? And a different _species_?"

"Which is why you find it so hard to reconcile your attraction to me, I know." He said dryly, twisting his head to get a better view of her legs. She'd even run out barefoot, a fact emphasised by her stamping in irritation.

"I am _not _attracted to you, you _arrogant ARSE_. I hate demons, I hate you and all you stand for. I would quite happily kill the whole lot of you-"

"I never said you _liked_ me. But you are attracted to me."

"Bull. Shit." She turned to go but he appeared behind her, blocking her exit and taking hold of her chin, feeling the clench of her jaw beneath his fingers. There was strength there, he felt, though he could pinch his fingers together and break the bone as easily a twig. Her irises were enormous, blown to their full extent – from desire or from the darkness of the night he couldn't be sure. He certainly hoped it was the first.

"Prove it then." And the dark eyes flared as she accepted the challenge, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt with one hand and the back of his head with the other, yanking him down to meet her lips as her body curled reflexively upwards into his as she rose onto the tips of her toes. It was not the chaste kiss they had shared for wedding photos, nor the salted angry kiss that she had sealed her deal with.

Her lips pressed up onto his with force that would bruise if he were human, before retracting just as quickly as she tilted her head differently and dove back in, biting his lower lip just hard enough not to draw blood then sliding her tongue across to soothe it. He groaned, opening his mouth and inhaling her taste as he pulled back a fraction of a centimetre; the faint hint of apples and cinnamon overlain with the spearmint toothpaste she'd used. There was something else, even deeper below that but when he tried to press his lips back to hers she ripped herself away, shoving him against her car and walking off.

"Nice try jackass, but that was nothing to me." She called over one shoulder and he frowned, but followed her back inside.

He'd been so sure he could have drawn that out, made it turn from kissing into fondling and fondling into sex. But she still kept up with that damnable resistance to his charms.

It made him wonder what was so _special_ about this Jason that she'd made her deal for. What made him worth her self inflicted celibacy? Most people, given the right prompting, enough temptation and the reassurance of not getting caught _would_ cheat on their significant other. Oh maybe they'd feel ashamed afterwards but the fact remained that they would do it. Yet Evie stoically refused to have anything to do with him.

Which for him was a massive incentive to keep trying.

* * *

By the next day they'd arrived in Florida, Evie pushing the speed limit to the maximum. She hadn't even managed to discuss how they were going to get from that house back to England. Quite probably they would get a plane and Dean would just have to deal with his fear of flying. Or Crowley would get the demons to take them. He was being surprisingly compliant with this whole thing, though when she asked he pointed out that he now knew without a doubt the leviathans were prepared to kill him and that his own house was now unsafe. She'd expected anger, indignation. What she got was calm acceptance and it made her wonder what he was up to now.

It didn't help that she'd found him looking at her journal. Damn her for leaving it open like that. She'd been writing in it while driving and had just shoved it into the compartment without looking when she had to put both hands back on the wheel. Crowley had swallowed the lie about wiping it clean easily enough though, but it was much too close for comfort. No way did she want him reading what she wrote about. Then there was him getting so close to Tara's present. She would never have heard the end of that.

The Winchesters were already there, sitting out on the front porch with an older man she assumed was Bobby. He looked grim, to put it lightly. Wary, but with a face that looked like he'd hear you out before he did anything rash. He sat back a little as they arrived, giving Crowley a filthy look filled with distrust.

"Singer!" Crowley called, raising his arms in a mock hug motion. "Got a coming home kiss for me?"

"Sure. Why don't we do it over my dead body?" The man shot back, glowering at the demon.

"Kinky! Not usually into the whole necrophilia thing but as the client wishes-"

Bobby simply shook his head, growling under his breath and coming forward to off a hand for her to shake. "Bobby Singer. I have the misfortune of being the go to man for these idjits. They tell me your name is Stratton. I had a friend who talked about them. Said they were all dead, or presumed so. Most hunters haven't heard from them in fifteen years and now you're what? Back?"

"For the moment. Just until the leviathans are gone and we can carry on with our lives."

"Well, when you have a minute I'd like to talk to you..." He dropped her hand and she widened her eyes at him, hoping he'd take the hint to shut up. He seemed knowledgeable enough to have heard about the hunter's Bible, even if he'd only heard rumours. It was the worst kept secret amongst hunters ever, so it had to be what he was asking about. Thankfully he wasn't stupid enough to forget Crowley's presence and finished with.

"About the way you do things in England, I hear it's very different over there."

"Yes, it is very different." She smiled and Crowley laughed behind them.

"Well look at you both, carefully avoiding mentioning the hunter's Bible in front of the demon." _Crap and double crap._

"I've already said to you Crowley - it doesn't exist! Sorry, but do you really think something like that _could_?"

"I have no idea. But I do know your family has plenty of secrets you all carefully don't talk about. Like Jacob's ladder. That's angel exclusive, yet you seemed to be discussing it as a transport option."

She froze. "How do you know we were talking about Jacob's ladder? You were getting coffee."

He hesitated a half second but it was enough. "You didn't notice my return-"

"You were spying on us weren't you! Some higher demons can be invisible." She scoffed and retrieved the keys to the house from her pocket. "I can't _believe-_ well, actually I can, that's the worst part. When else have you been spying on me?"

He shrugged. "You really want to know?"

_He could have been watching me change for all I know. It's probably best I just don't ask. Ignorance is bliss after all._

"You'll have to give me a minute while I remove the protection so you can come in. If you tried to walk in right now you'd get instantly exorcised."

"You couldn't just get a welcome mat?"

She shook her head, "By our usual standards this is minimal protection." Opening the door, she stood within the doorway and muttered softly until the spell that would have knocked out intruders was neutralised. Then came the demon warding, though she left the angel defences up. All in all it took about half an hour to remove every spell. She then rolled the rug inside the doorway up, revealing a trap painted underneath and place it aside. Crowley shoved past and she tried to grab his arm before he-

The shotgun went off and he dropped to the floor, bellowing in pain. She sighed and went to the pad near the door, turning the computer system off as he stood up gripping his shoulder.

"Oh relax you big baby, it's just rock salt."

"It _burns_!"

"Should have waited until I gave the clear then shouldn't you?" She admonished and took his arm, examining it. The wound wasn't too bad, the bullet having fired a fraction of a second too late; she'd have to take a look at the system some other time.

"You had a shotgun hidden behind a fake mirror. Loaded with rock salt."

"Yeah, we didn't have the money for the machine gun," she replied sarcastically and saw him recoil in surprise. "That was a _joke_ Crowley. Though it was an option."

"Again, why do you have a gun poised to shoot anyone that comes in?"

"Not anyone, just demons. It's hooked up to a camera that runs in infra red- you know, never mind. It sees a demon and it shoots."

"Nice." Dean admired, walking up and pushing away the shards of mirror glass. "Gotta get one for my house."

"We don't actually _have_ a house right now Dean."

"Well when I _get_ my house I'll get one."

Evie laughed, drawing Crowley through into the dining room and sitting him at the table. "You boys make yourselves at home, there's no perishable food but there'll be cans and a kettle with some coffee knocking around in one of the cupboards."

She dusted off the medic kit that she knew would be stashed in the laundry closet and brought it through to Crowley, who was still sitting at the table and clutching his arm. He'd undone the top few buttons of his shirt to get to the wound and was picking at it almost moodily like a child would a scab.

"Why isn't it healing?" He spat out, soaking up the blood trickling from the wound with his balled up suit jacket. She pushed it aside, peeling back his shirt and grimacing.

"Well, some bright spark a while back designed this spring mechanism that we embed into some of our rock salt bullets. Couldn't do it with a normal bullet, but the spring breaks through the salt easily enough. On impact this...well, almost like a little iron claw breaks out and hooks into the surrounding skin. It blocks your ability to heal from the salt and it also traps the salt in place. If you were a lesser demon you'd be screaming in agony right now. They're hard to pull out, too, since you can't touch the thing bare handed without hurting yourself more..."

"Your family are so charming, did I ever tell you that? You really know how to lay out the welcome mat to a weary traveller."

She smirked and undid more of his buttons so she could take his shirt off completely, discarding the bloodied mess onto the floor.

"Admit it you just wanted to see me with my kit off didn't you Evie?" Crowley purred and she gave him a stony look before sticking her gloved fingers into the wound.

"You really want to push me right now?" She queried and his eyes narrowed as he relaxed his body.

The work was easy to fall into, just like a day at the hospital. It didn't help however that Crowley wriggled and fidgeted like a child whenever she came near him with the long tweezers. _God, are all men like this with pain? It certainly seems like it._

Finally she could see the offending lump of iron, twisted deeply into the tissue. There was a little bit of steam rising from it as the iron continued to burn him. Handing him the bottle of whiskey she'd brought in with her she let him take a long draught, waiting until he was distracted to rip the piece of metal right out. He snarled and the bottle shattered as his grip on it intensified. With a human she'd have carefully taken it out little by little for fear of causing more damage, but once it was out Crowley would be able to heal so there was no need for caution. It might have been a little less painful for him though. But where was the fun in that?

She dropped it into the bowl she'd laid out on the table with a clatter, wrinkling her nose at the chunk of steaming flesh attached to it.

"I've always found nurses sexy until now." Crowley picked a tiny speck of salt out as the wound healed rapidly. "I want you to know you have now _thoroughly _ruined that for me."

"I'm a doctor, not a nurse."

"Same thing but with extra letters after your name love."

She dealt him a resigned slap to the arm and was rewarded when he cringed slightly. With her tools packed away she waited for him to dress, tapping her foot. Crowley removed the blood from his shirt with a wave of a hand and shrugged into it, buttoning it a little slower than usual. He had a nice chest, Crowley. He was slimmer than he looked and the skin she'd felt through her gloves was smooth and supple-

"For a woman so in love with another man Evangeline, you do like staring at me half naked."

"I wasn't staring, Crowley, I was checking for scatter wounds. When the salt hit you it could have peppered more little wounds nearby."

_Nice lie Evie. Scatter wounds. Should really stop making thing up on the spot. Should stop eyeing up Crowley really, end of story. _

He fumbled with his tie, glass still embedded in one hand from smashing the bottle and she considered helping him with it. But somehow it didn't seem right. Too intimate. Too movie moment. She often did Jason's tie up before he left for work in the mornings. She liked waking up, even if she didn't have a shift, just to watch him dress and make him some breakfast. It was what her mother had always done for her father, just a small way of expressing her love and care.

_Jason._

Didn't she keep saying to phone him? Didn't she keep telling herself to? He'd be distraught right now, waking up from an accident to go almost a month without hearing from her. He probably thought she was missing. Or had left him. But God she missed him. She'd been putting off thinking about it, but she really did. Not the sex, though admittedly that was great, but just the intimacy of having someone she could rely on, someone she could trust completely. The only thing great about being here with Crowley was she could finally embrace the other side of herself. But not entirely. If she did as Simon wanted, she could never go back to that beautiful, picket fence life she had with Jason. She couldn't have both, but she could have one of them and honour her father's wishes.

She pulled out her phone, clicking through the pictures until she found one of them both smiling, Jason with his arms wrapped tight around her and his head on her shoulder. _Even if you don't know it, I still love you_. She told him mentally before putting it away before she started crying. It wouldn't do to have a breakdown when there was a job to be done.

The others were waiting in the kitchen and Simon had arrived after all while she was sorting Crowley out. Somebody, presumably Becky, had found a kettle and teabags somewhere and made everyone a cup. Her cousin skulked in the corner beside the tiny woman while the Winchesters and bobby sat at the small table. They all stood up as she arrived and dumped the medikit on one of the surfaces.

"Well he'll live. I got the bullet out."

"More's the pity." Simon snorted.

"But we have to think about how to get out of here now, the main question being demons or the ladder."

"No way am I trusting a demon," Dean stated, "so let's hear about this ladder of yours."

Evie sighed and began, waiting for Crowley to close the door behind them. "Any of you big Bible readers? Well, all you need to know is a guy called Jacob gets granted a vision by God of a ladder that leads all the way up to Heaven. There's angels going up and down this ladder, Jacob is in awe, story ends. The ladder is real, though you don't see many angels on it. Might be different now after the apocalypse was averted. The ladder is, essentially, the servants' stairs to creation. Person could hop on it and travel anywhere on Earth - and to any time."

"Well beam us up this sound great..." Bobby said, furrowing his brow, "but there's a catch ain't there?"

"The ladder doesn't exist. Not in any physical sense. The angels barely notice its existence because they travel along it so fast - like waves of light. It was designed for them so its use is instinctive. It's not even a ladder, more of a funnel or some sort of wormhole. Simon's mum is still trying to figure it out. But point is its hard for us to get on, but what's really hard is getting where you want to go."

"Unless you've got the knack," Simon interjected. "Evie here is one of the best."

"Thanks, Simon, but point is, as you climb the ladder you see stuff. It tries to get you off, in a way..I think us being on it messes it up a little. So it tempts you with portals to moments from your life - moments you'd want to revisit or to change. Or people you've lost and wish you could see again. There'll be these...almost platforms, small landings with windows on the side into a moment in your life. The further you climb, the more personal these moments will become as it susses you out. For people who've travelled on it before it's even worse because it already knows you. But these portals are fake; they don't lead where they appear to go. If we climb the ladder we'll have to be holding on to each others shoulders or something; just to keep you anchored to the first climber. It's them that leads the way and has to keep the stair visualised. Because if they get distracted the stair will literally vanish beneath their feet and you'll fall anywhere. Any_when_. If we did this and the stair failed then chances are with such a big group that we wouldn't all end up in the same place. All it takes is one person losing their grip or letting go in surprise. You could end up at the bottom of the ocean, the middle of a volcano, twenty thousand feet in the air-"

"We get it." Sam held his hand up, looking slightly green. "Very, very bad." The room had lapsed into silence as everyone brooded on what the stair might show them when Simon clapped his hands together.

"Well, I'm for the stair. Evie never led us wrong before now; she's never once fallen off in all the times I've been on there with her."

"I'd like to try it." Becky agreed, eyes catching Simon's before flickering away to look at Sam and Dean. The girl seemed even edgier than usual and it made Evie wonder what Simon had done now.

"I'll try it." Bobby confirmed, "But correct me if I'm wrong - if we did this we could hop on over to England just before the leviathan were released? Get the drop on them?"

"Yes, we could. But we'll have to tow the prisoner, don't forget that."

"I think it's worth it," Dean muttered "Any advantage we could get is a godsend really."

"Can you really do it though?" Crowley's shrewd voice asked and they all looked around to the doorway he'd just entered through. "Lead yourself and six others up the stairs that don't exist, whilst towing an unconscious monster and resisting your own temptations? Oh and avoiding any angels that might be going past?"

"She can do it." Simon said firmly before Evie could express her doubts.

"Okay. Sounds like a plan. We should put the cars in the garage, gather minimal supplies..." She was relieved as Dean took over, panicking a little inside. When she'd been on the stair before with her family it hadn't been so bad. If they fell off every one of them knew how to get back on. Eventually they'd have made their way back to their time and the right place. But these people...if they got separated from her and simon then they'd have no way of getting back on; they'd be trapped wherever they ended up.

"You can do this Evie." Simon gripped her hand, his words quiet. "I have complete faith."

"We don't have the belts though, or a way to attach ourselves together."

"We'll just hold tight then. I'll go at the back, dragging the Levi - if he wakes up and anything happens I'll just let go. Just remember to keep walking, don't stop for anything." She nodded, feeling Crowley's eyes on her. She felt the need to give him extra instruction whilst the others got ready to leave.

"You're going to be directly behind me, okay? So make sure you don't let go, not for anything. Or the whole chain will be lost. Don't wander, don't-"

"Please Evangeline, your concern is smothering me." He winked and she felt herself redden.

"I don't give a crap about you Crowley; don't forget that. It's what'll happen to the others if you let go that concerns me."

"Do keep telling yourself that." The backs of his fingers trailed up her outer arms and came to a rest on her shoulders. "I won't let go of you." He affirmed, gazing at her lips and she was certain he would kiss her then, but instead he pulled away. _Come on Evie he didn't mean it that way and you know it..._

"What order will we be in? Just because, if it's all the same, I'd rather I wasn't near your cousin." Becky's voice drew her out of her internal conflict.

"Why? Rather be near Sam?" Becky blushed

"I wouldn't mind that, but I actually wanted to be near the front." AKA as far from Simon as possible.

"Won't say it again Becky – why?"

"Well your cousin...he creeps me out. The way he looks at me...I'm sorry it's just I think he hates me, like really HATES me. I mean are you sure he's sane-"

"Put her near the front." Both women turned guiltily to the sound of Simon's voice as he re-entered the kitchen and dumped the chained leviathan on the ground from where he had him over his shoulder. "I'm sure she'd rather be near Mr. Fanservice anyway- plus her incessant drivel makes me want to cut my ears off." He stomped out into the back garden, leaving Becky to cover her mouth in such obvious dismay that Evie took pity.

"Want some advice?"

"God yes."

"Don't stop doing what you're doing. Because if you change, he is only going to despise you for it. Simon respects strength. Make him respect you. Listen to his advice on hunting - there he's always right. But for God's sake do not try to act like he says you should. Secondly...his bark is worse than his bite. Simon has been through Hell and back, he has never once in his life caught a break. Being cruel to everything and everyone Is just his way of coping. Do you understand?"

"So he's a complete softie at heart?" Evie burst out laughing

"I think that's stretching it a bit too far. He'll never be nice to you, but he will do right by you and he will protect you to his last breath. He's just like that. Wouldn't have a coffee with a stranger, but would lay down his life for them without a qualm." Becky nodded, looking thoughtful.

"I'll try to remember that next time he's mean. Forget what I said about being near the front, I'll go next to him. He wouldn't accept a proper apology so I'll just do that." Evie smiled and clapped her on the arm, a small part of her happy that in some weird, convoluted way Becky was learning.

* * *

Finally they were lined up and ready to go. Simon had given Becky a seriously acerbic glare when she walked up to him, gave him a defiant look and took her place in front of him. But then there was trouble up ahead as Dean wound up behind Crowley and threw a fit when the demon made a flippant remark about Dean wanting to touch him up. It had looked like they were never leaving until Simon spoke up and suggested Becky go behind Crowley. The girl had put up a token protest but Simon had insisted, not adding the obvious point that she was safer there anyway. Simon may come across as indifferent, but she knew he had a strong sense of duty towards his strange apprentice. So in the end their strange group was lined up across the small overgrown garden facing the brick wall, with her at the front, then Crowley, Becky, Dean, Sam, Bobby and Simon with their prisoner.

"Okay, we make the MINIMUM stops, you hear me? It's easier to hold together if you keep moving. Oh and don't lean over the edge. Or look down unless you can help it. It's all in the head, so if your eyes see how there's nothing actually there...yeah just don't," she said, scratching her neck. "All of you have your weapon, hang on to it. If we do fall off - HIDE. Chances are we'd fall into one of our timelines and believe me you do not want to meet yourself and change your past. It sounds great at first but believe me it'll come back and kick you in the balls. Suddenly having memories you never had before is a bitch. Oh and ignore anything that looks like the future - its only a possible future. Not certainty. If in the worst case you end up separated from the group or stuck on the stair, just visualise where you most want to go and think that you're just walking up your stairs at home to it. It's what I do."

"Can we skip the scary talk and get this over with?" Dean prompted and she nodded, turning to face the wall and feeling Crowley place warm hands on her waist. She took a deep exhaling breath, reaching for that inner calm she always experienced when she found the ladder. The biggest part of it was in the head, in climbing stairs that your eyes told you weren't there. So she looked around her, eyes falling on the brick wall and how in a certain way the zigzag pattern of the mortar looked a little like steps.

Her leg rose and stepped up, continuing without thinking as she felt the steps beneath her feet. Crowley's fingers tightened at her waist but she ignored him and all the others. She could see the stairs now that she'd passed the threshold, but there was a landing coming up ahead. They were brick for the moment, rough red brick. She could only hope this landing was one of hers. She knew she'd be able to resist. It was the others she was afraid of. When she'd told the others they were lies, siren calls...well she'd lied. The ladder arranged itself and tried to suggest places in time that the climber might be searching for or would want to see.

The first landing was easy for her to pass; a hospital room with a young woman holding a baby whilst a husband and another young boy that could only be Dean looked on and smiled.

"Sammy. Sam Winchester," she declared and snuggled the boy closer. She felt herself having to slow as the Winchesters passed it and Crowley pulled her to an almost halt. But Simon must have chivvied them forwards because she could soon increase her pace again.

The next window was just rolling grass with a distant town at the bottom. "The old homestead." Crowley muttered, but he didn't slow and stuck to her instructions. The steps were worn stone now, like that she'd seen on the distant castle from the window before and they spiralled as her mind fed the ladder inspiration. They turned a sharp corner and they became the stairs from her workplace, then there was a vertical ladder that meant they all had to bunch together as they climbed, each keeping a hand on the leg of the person above them. It was just one of the ways the ladder tries to throw groups off, by making it harder to keep hold of each other. At one point she was pretty sure she booted Crowley in the face but his grip never ceased on her ankle.

Eventually she climbed out onto a landing; one of Simon's by the look of it. He was playing football with a young Josh. She reached down to grab Crowley's hand and they milled around the landing as Simon hauled up the leviathan. She kept focused, though, and once they'd passed the stair became a gentle slope of grass, the walls falling away to false sunlight.

"Stay directly behind me!" she called back. "It's trying to make the sides of the stairs less obvious so you fall off." They walked past a family picnic where the Winchester boys sat with both their parents and even a little sister. She felt a pang as she realised they were looking into an alternate reality. A window of a family eating dinner. A scene where a little boy comforted his mother after his father beat her. None of hers, yet. Well, she spoke too soon.

The next window was of a day at the beginning of summer, when she was still a little too young to be sent of on one of the family's apprenticeships. Josh was only one and sitting in one of the flowerbeds of the family house near her mothers lawn chair. She and her cousins were engaging in a heated water fight whilst Camille Stratton watched on, laughing until Evie's father emptied a bucket of water out of a window onto her.

"Roger! You are PAYING FOR THAT!" Evie chuckled and continued, thankful for the reminder. Her cousins had left the day after, being older and so able to learn the family trade from strangers. She'd spent the time reading in the swing under the oak tree, or picking herbs with her mother and playing with the baby.

She barely saw the next two windows, intent on the stairs and her own reminiscing. But Crowley definitely noticed the third because he ground to an absolute halt, keeping them both on the landing. "What is it?" Becky's voice drifted up from where she was just out of sight around the corner behind Crowley. The rest of the group weren't on the landing so couldn't see the window. Perplexed, Evie glanced at the window, in which a couple were apparently getting married.

"...And do you, Bridget Marie Ewart take Fergus Rodric McLeod-"

"That's you as a human?" she muttered sideways to Crowley, who shook himself.

"Not as good looking as now hmm?" He winked and just like that was back to normal. But he didn't fool her for a second. It was true, though, that the man in the window was a little on the plain side...though the way he was beaming in happiness made him handsome. The woman looked equally happy and as they kissed Evie decided it was past the time to move on.

They climbed for a while longer, Evie searching for the right window, knowing it wouldn't be long now. After all the stair wanted them off, so it would give them the exit they wanted provided they didn't stray. The landings were getting fewer, as the stair begun to figure out what they really wanted, however they were also getting harder to pass.

The night of Mary Winchester's death. Becky's breakup with Chuck, Simon clutching a wyvern baby (she sped up past that one) and more images of a human Crowley; sitting behind a shop counter sewing, jiggling a young boy on his knee, kissing the same beautiful woman from before, his human wife. Bridget.. Bridie! Bridie is short for Bridget, and how could she forget the name he'd muttered in his sleep?

Feeling a wave of pity for him, she pressed a hand onto his as she climbed. He removed his hand from under hers; wordlessly rejecting her comfort. Of course.

"Hey Crowley, how did a guy that looked like you get a woman like that?"

"Heroics." The demon behind her replied sarcastically. "Now shut your pie hole or I'll be waiting for you at the other end of the stair and I'll make you eat your own entrails to keep it shut."

They passed another window where human Crowley was drinking himself into a stupor. Another where he was just sitting and staring into space. Crowley was tense behind her, his fingers digging into her flesh painfully as he began to push her in his haste to hurry up. She obliged and the ladder gave the demon a break, switching back to scenes she recognised.

There was a double landing with her meeting Jason on one side and her first hunt on the other. One in which her father whispered in her ear as he died. Her mother smiling wanly from her hospital bed, beautiful features turned waxen as the cancer ate at her slowly. Her singing to the radio with her father as the car roared down the M25 with Josh bouncing in the back seat and getting all the words wrong as her father drummed the beat on his steering wheel, grinning the exact copy of his daughters grin. There was one of a failed hunt, of a shapeshifter in dog form guzzling on a child's corpse, of her failing an operation and the small body beneath her hands bleeding out despite frantic resuscitation attempts. Many of her past patients made an appearance; those who she hadn't saved.

There was a window where her corpse stared lifelessly at her as Dick Roman laughed in the background. The others swore aloud at that one, but she barely glanced at it. Only a possible future, she reminded herself and kept plodding. The stairs had turned into multicoloured Lego bricks beneath her feet and she could hear what sounded like Dean whooping at 'how cool this was'. There was a high pitched whine and her eyes widened.

"DROP!" she screeched, gripping Crowley's hand firmly to her and falling to the ground as _something_ rushed directly overhead, her eardrums popping and the light searing her shut and downcast eyes. Crowley swore from his position half above her but that was all she could hear besides the dreadful screaming whistling light overhead.

"Explain." was the first word out of Crowley's mouth and Evie grimaced.

"I think that was an angel...anyone dead? Simon!"

"Still kicking. But our leviathan friend is awake. He can't seem to break the chains though so we're all right for now." She relaxed, climbing to her feet and hearing the grumbles of the others as they did likewise.

"Hey Sammy, you know that feeling you get when you step on a Lego brick? Well I got it all over my face."

"Quit whining Dean, it could have been much worse." Bobby's gruff voice snapped. "I lost my cap."

She could sense the end of the ladder nearby as it straightened out from a hectic maze to a straightforward climb with a large window at the top. She was focused on that when she caught sight of the second to last window from the corner of her eye. Her head snapped around so that she could look again, but what she had seen at a glance hadn't changed. She remained rooted to the spot as Crowley attempted to crane his neck around to see what she could. But she was the only one on the landing, the only one who could _see_.

"Evie! The stairs are coming apart you have to focus. Move past the window."

She could hear Simon, but it was almost as if he were speaking a different language to her. She could hear the stairs crumbling, hear the crashes and groans but they were as quiet as a feather dropping. How could she not stay? Her eyes were denying the evidence before them, denying Jason climbing off the woman he'd just been having sex with and dressing beside her bed, denying him kissing her goodbye and grabbing his car keys. This could be any point in time, she reminded herself. A previous relationship.

"I'm going to tell her tonight," he promised the woman who stretched languidly and grinned.

"Make sure you do. I can't wait to start finally wearing the ring in public."

"I will. Evan deserves to know...and I want you to meet my mother. She's going to love you," he promised and it was almost like someone had just smacked her in the knees with a sledgehammer, because they crumpled and Crowley wrapped both arms firmly around her as the stair shattered and somewhere someone screamed.

* * *

**A/N so yes, Jason is a cheating bastard who'd gone and got himself engaged to ANOTHER woman whilst still dating Evangeline - SURPRISE! And Bridie was Crowley's human wife - DOUBLE SURPRISE!** **So tell me what you think of these developments and where you think the intrepid group will end up...I'll give you a clue: it certainly ain't Kansas. **

_**Translations:**_

**Si venire in Angliam, ubi maneamus – **If we go to England, where will be stay?

**Non domum...Receptui?**" - Not the house...the retreat?

"**Et Crowley? Venitne?**" - and Crowley? Is he coming?

"**Si necesse est." **- If he must.


End file.
